


Bone Snatcher

by Bubonicc



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Blood (Energon), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other, Self-Destruction, Self-Mutilation, Teeth, robot gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4749620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubonicc/pseuds/Bubonicc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drift just wants them to stop staring. He would do anything to make them stop, anything to just fit in and be accepted. Whatever it takes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Different

He couldn't recall the very first time it had bothered him. Maybe it was because as Deadlock it never really had bothered him. It was a thing of pride and showed dominance, though now, it was just a clear reminder of his past.

            It frustrated him that everybody made it so obvious they were staring, even trailing off in their conversation the moment they noticed them. The moment their own smile faded and their optics focused. It all had irritated, wearing down the wall he had struggled to build up to avoid Deadlock, and here it all was coming back down on him. Each brick seemed to knock him right on the head for his stupid decisions, though he welcomed the punishment.

            It hadn't been as bad. Rarely anybody noticed them before the Lost Light. How could they have been? He rarely saw anybody face to face. Now in closed quarters, seeing the same faces day to day made it much more easier for bots to pick up on finer details. Details Drift had kept buried, purposely tried to ignore himself. He was lucky Wing had replaced his optics when he had, though furious at the time he did so. Now he thanked Wing for it, realizing he could have been walking around with Read optics like Cyclonus.

            Drift had downsized since his Deadlock days. His frame had become a bit shorter, thinner, and faster. Everything that made him fearful and menacing on the outside slowly vanished with time, but some inner parts remained. Deadlock was still festering inside of his spark, swimming around to let himself out every time Drift found himself getting angry. Some days were harder than others.

            Now,  he was strolling his way into the bar, casual as ever. Passing by bots who staggered and nearly fell and he caught their arm to help them then continued on his way.

            "Drift! Haven't seen you in a while." Getaway raised his glass to him. "Thought you weren't a drinker." He lowered his glass, elbowing Treailbreaker on the side of him who smiled. He laughed and they both clinked their drinks together, though when they looked back up to a smiling Drift they both fell quiet. Trailbreakr tapped his servos against his glass nervously, though just looked to the side while Getaway kept on staring.

            "What?" Drift frowned, looking back and forth between them a moment before Getaway shrugged.

            "Nothing Drift, just forgot how bit your fangs are. Didn't think you still had a set after you quit being Dea-" A had elbow to the side from Trailbreaker and Getaway growled. He glared then looked back up at Drift who had his lips pressed together in a fine line. His finials drooped slightly, but instantly perked back up as he turned away from the table and faced the bar.

            He swallowed hard, heading for a bar stool and making sure to sit three stools away from Cyclonus. It was a habit he had only recently started, after Tailgate had also pointed out how large his fangs were, saying they were enough to rival even Cyclonus'. Keeping two or three seats down seemed like enough space he could drink in peace without someone pointing out how large his denta were.

            "The hard stuff today Swerve." Drift tapped his fist on the counter, keeping his head low as Swerve set a glass down then poured him his drink. The mini bot opened his mouth as if to say something, maybe ask what was wrong, though thought against it. Some bots it was just better to let them drown in their drink. "Thanks." Drift said, pulling the glass closer and taking a long and slow sip from the frothing top.

            Leaning back, he licked his lips, his glossa skimming each side of his fangs like always and he sighed. It shouldn't bother him, but it did. It shouldn't make his spark ache, but it does.

He took another long sip before someone climbed up onto the stool next to him and set something down on the counter.

            He glanced to the side, sitting up quickly as he noticed it was Perceptor. Holding an unrefined chunk of energon and a file, Perceptor smiled at him.

            "Funny, finding you here." He said, filing away at some sharp edges on the energon chunk. "Brainstorm and I are trying to see if we can make better tasting energon. So as a test we are hand refining it. Which means we need to grind away the top layer of it to get to the sweeter stuff on the inside. Brainstorm thinks it's funny he's sculpting them while I'm just making mine into little balls." He laughs, and Drift wants to smile with him, but holds back.

            Perceptor was probably one of the only bots on the Lost Light who didn't stare. Even when Drift had an open mouth laugh and was hysterical he never caught him staring at him. No, he always laughed with him, and it brightened him right up. When Perceptor was around the rest of the world seemed to melt away. Maybe it was the fact that Perceptor knew why they were there and why Drift just couldn't simply do away with them. Maybe e knew it was a small detail about his much bigger picture and that they really didn't matter. Either way he felt better around Perceptor and was glad for his presence.

            His finials stood back up and he managed a small smile, though taking care to keep his lips sealed. He looked back down at his drink, fingering the top of the glass before tapping the counter again and asking Swerve for a drink for Perceptor.

            "Thank you, Drift." Perceptor said as Swerve slid him a glass, though he kept his optics focused on his little piece of energon. Filing away at it, Drift rested his head in one hand and simply watched for a while. "How have you been? Haven't seen you in a few days. Brainstorm and I have been pretty busy."

            "Had better days." Another sip of his energon and Drift shrugged. "Same struggles, different days." He heard Perceptor snort and nod, agreeing with him.

            "I hear you loud and clear Drift." Holding out his much more circular looking energon, Perceptor let out a content sigh. "I finished. Here, give me your hand." He waited for Drift to process the request then sheepishly hold out his hand. He uncurled his servos, open palm up and waiting as Perceptor set the energon ball into his hand and closed his fingers over it. "Eat that, and if you see Brainstorm make sure you tell him mine taste better." And there it was, the open mouth smile he couldn't help.

            Drift laughed, rolling the candy in his palm so he could hold it pinched between two servos. It was a brighter blue than usual, no doubt sweet, and probably very tasty. He was about to look up and say he couldn't accept it, but Perceptor was had a huge grin on his face and he smiled back.

            "Thanks Percy. I'll be sure to let Brainstorm know you are the best candy man." They laughed together, and clinked their drinks together. The chit chat started to roll by, and the bar saw its regulars in and out. When it came time for them to clear counter as well, Perceptor slapped his hand on Drifts back.

            "I'll see you later Drift, have some things to wrap up in the lab. Thanks for the drink."

            "Any time Percy. I think I'm going to talk to Ratchet before I turn in." They brushed shoulders as they walked together down the hall. When they came to a form in the halls and had to o their separate ways, Perceptor pulled away first. He walked, tuning winked, or at least that's what Drift thought he saw along with how Perceptor seemed to purposely sway his hips more than usual. Drift watched as long as he could until finally getting his bearings back and heading off.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ratchet had his back to the Med-bay doors, head down working on something Drift couldn't see as he leaned in. He looked around, taking node the lights had been dimmed and that all the patient beds were empty. Ratchet was never truly too busy on the Lost Light, though a circus, there were never any life threatening things happening say by day unlike on Cybertron were everyday he had surgeries.

            Ratchet looked up as he felt arms wrapping around his waist then a warm frame press against his back. He smirked, looking to the side as Drift set his head down on his bulky shoulder.

            "It's late, Drift." Ratchet's voice was low, but he pressed back into Drift. "Did you come by because you know I don't have anybody in the ward?"

            "Just a good guess." Pressing his nose into the cables of Ratchets neck, Drift let his glossa flick out to lick at one. He smirked as Ratchet shivered and forced himself around. Facing Drift, Ratchet raised a thick eyebrows at him and let Drift dive back down into his neck. He licks again, hearing Ratchet chirr above him. "I like to visit my favorite medic once in a while."

            "Oh? Is that so?  You seem to avoid me when I call you for your routine repair." He felt Drift stop his teasing a bit, then continue as he thought about it. "Hehe." He was pushed hard into the counter as Drift moved into him harder.

            His cheeks burned when he heard Ratchet let out a soft groan, and he pushed harder, opening his mouth a little wider and moving in for a bigger cable.

            Ratchet suddenly jerked hard, his grip on Drifts arm tightening. He hissed and Drift pulled back quickly, his optics wide and a line of energon running down his chin.

            "Ratchet, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I didn't mean to-" He stared at the bite mark, two thick puncture wounds on Ratchets energon line from his fangs.

            Standing up straight and putting his hand over the wound, Ratchet bought his hand forward to look at his energon stained servos. It wasn't that bad, but Drift started to panic.

            "I'm sorry! Ratchet, I'm sorry." He can see the surprise on Ratchets face, how serious he suddenly looked.

            "Calm down Drift, it's alright. It' fine, it's nothing, just a nick." Ratchet turned around, opening a cabinet and pulling out a small cloth and pressing it to his neck. "Really, Drift, it's nothing." He gave a reassuring smile but Drift shook his head and stepped back. His finials went all the way down and he moved back as Ratchet stepped closer.

            "I... have to go. I'm sorry."

            "Drift."

            "I'm sorry."

 

* * *

 

 

Arm slung over his face, Drift lay on his back on his berth. He could still taste Ratchets energon in his mouth, and it made his tank. While laying there, he had been running his glossa over the back of his fangs, pricking the top of his glossa on their tips. They were sharper than the rest of his denta set, though they were just as equally jagged.

            Pulling his arm from his face, he looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. Opening his mouth he brought his hand op and pinched one of the fangs, trying to wiggle it but it was seated in well. He tried the other, getting the same result and just flopping his hand down in disappointment.

            He sat up, running a hand over one of his finials before dimming his optics and thinking. If he went back to Ratchet and asked him if there was a way to get rid of them Ratchet would surely slap him over the head and tell him he was being stupid for being so self conscious about something like this. Or maybe he wouldn't, he wasn't sure, but as of right now he didn't want to face Ratchet after hurting him. Not when he saw that look on his face. The look he recognized so well. It only showed up on bots faces when they realized and remembered exactly what Drift used to be. Though they would never say it to him, Ratchet would never call him what he once was, but he knew Ratchet thought about it once in a while.

            Getting up, Drift went over to his personal washroom, being third in command did have its advantages. He grabbed the sink, looking right into the mirror and right into his own optics.

            He stared a moment, then made a large smile, and right away his fangs were noticeable. They protruded outward when he opened his mouth, and even the smaller row on his bottom jaw looked terrifying.

            Closing his mouth, he cursed, looking down at his hands and clenching them into tight fists.

            Something started to boil inside of him, that festering feeling swimming around in his spark seemed to work its way up into his throat and wedge itself their like a tight knot.

            As he looked up, he jumped back, seeing his old armor, face, and that devils grin in the mirror as Deadlock smiled back at him. He stuck out his glossa, biting it and sinking a single fang into it, amused at the horrified look on Drifts face.

            _Are you happy?_

            "STOP!" His fist flew out, hitting the side of the mirror, a large crack sliced across it through Deadlocks face and he vanished, leaving nothing but his own reflection to be the one sliced in half. "Stop..." Shoulders tilting down, Drift moved away from the mirror back out into the main part of his hab.

            He chewed on his lip, then on the tip of his servos as his mind raced. He had to do something, anything, just to get away from this, but what?

            He paced, thinking, then paused as he recalled Perceptor had a file in his hand. Maybe, just maybe if he could get his hands on it he could file his denta back down to normal length. It would work wouldn't it? He could avoid Ratchet if it worked.

            Just standing and thinking a while longer, he nodded to himself and rushed from his hab down to the laboratory. It was late enough now that both Brainstorm and Perceptor should be in their own habs, though Brainstorm did had a tendency to stay up very late, he hoped tonight wasn't one of those nights.

            He peeked in through the doors windows first, already relieved that the lab lights were off except for a few small lights to keep part of the equipment lit up.

            He crept in, stopping and waiting for the doors to close behind him before heading right over to Perceptors work station. Already he knew what drawers to pull open, having visited his scientist quite often and watching him work on days he had nothing else to do.

            It only took a few tries to find the right drawer, finding several files all nearly stacked on top of one another. He took the first one he saw, flipping it over and examining the ribs on each side before closing the drawer and standing. Hopefully Perceptor wouldn't notice it was missing or at least think Brainstorm was borrowing it for now.

            Putting the file into his subspace, Drift made his way out, trying to look as casual as possible just in case anybody passed him by, though luckily he made it back to his hab without being seen at all.

 

* * *

 

 

Standing before the cracked mirror, file in hand, Drift leaned over the sink. His spark was pounding and he hadn't even started yet. He felt his legs trembling, though stomped his ped to try and shake it off. This was going to be nothing. He had suffered worse, this was going to be easy. Just shave them down, nothing to it. It would be quick, nothing to worry about, and when he woke up tomorrow he would have normal denta just like everybody else. Nobody would stare anymore, he would fit in. Everybody would talk to him and laugh with him and not stop. Nobody would give him that look, nobody would mention his denta anymore. Just had to do it, no problem.      

            Lifting his hand, he opened his mouth and started to direct the file towards the fangs, though falling short an inch before actually sticking it into his mouth.

            _Come on Drift, come on. You want this. Stop being a sparkling and just do it. Come on!_

            His hand trembled, and he moved just a bit closer until the underside of the file was pressing to the tip of a fang. His breathing picked up and he felt his vents shutter open wider. He squeezed his optics shut, his arm not moving at all, even as he screamed in his mind for it to do so. Already he was fighting with his own frame to even do this, having to go against basic instincts to not inflict harm on himself but he wanted this. He needed this.

            He removed the file and dropped his head, gripping the edge of the sink even harder. His spark felt like it was going to burst right through his chestplate.

            "You have too. Come on!" He growled, sticking the file back into his mouth and immediately starting to grind it against the fang.

            The pain was instantaneous, and his hand stopped, and it took everything he had to keep it moving. He gagged, his optics widening at the searing hot pain already spreading across his face as he worked it faster and faster.

            The noise was loud, or at least it was to him, and he could feel the hot rush of energon filling his mouth the longer he went.

            "Ah!" His hand slipped as the file was coated in too much energon, and it clattered down into the sink along with a large chunk of Drifts fang. He wretched, leaning over and whimpering at the alarming amount of energon that was starting to fill the sink as it all streamed out of his mouth. He looked up, smiling into the mirror, seeing the fang he had tried to file away had chipped and was now a jagged stump.

            He spat, a hand shaking so bad reaching for the file again and having to really try to grab it. He had to keep going, he couldn't leave it like that.

            The file went right back in, sawing away at the jagged denta piece. Drift kept growling until he was roaring and violently moving the file back and forth. After a bit he took it out, almost throwing it down as he opened his mouth into the mirror. His work and pain paid off, as his fang was now gone and rounded off to match the rest of his denta.

            He sobbed, relieved it had worked, though he was not done just yet. Picking the file right back up, pressing it against the second fang now. Coolant rolled down his cheeks as he squeezed his optics shut, fighting with his hand to keep it moving.

            He ignored the fact he could hear Deadlock in the back of his mind laughing at him. Calling him weak for doing such a thing. Telling him no matter how hard he tried he would never be rid of him.

            The file slipped from his hand again, and Drift coughed, energon spurting from his mouth. He could hear a loud ringing in his audio as his entire face ached and burned. The pain radiated up through his jaw to his optics, then to the very tips of his finials. Even moving his neck caused sharp bursts of pain to flow through him.

            His frame twitched and jerked as he tried to look up into the mirror. His smile now was a sorry sight, but he could see the fangs were gone. Perfectly rounded denta remained.

            He covered his mouth, coughing again as energon filled his intake and spurt from in-between his servos. It oozed in thick globs, splattering down into the sink and all over his own arms.

            _It's worth it... it's worth it. Just don't stop, you can't stop. Ignore the pain._

Trying to stand up straight, his legs wanted no part of it and he fell right back. His arms flailed and he grabbed the shower curtain, yanking it right off of all its rings as he fell right back onto the floor.

            Defeated, he just laid there, letting energon flow from the corners of his mouth. Everything around him was spinning, so we welcoming having fallen down, not wanting to fight to try to stay standing anymore anyway.

            He looked to the side, barely making out a figure kneeling down next to him.

            "You're weak." It was his voice, his older voice, and he whimpered as Deadlock grabbed his cheeks. "You think this will make them accept you?" He let go and stood. "It won't."

            Deadlocks figure wobbled and vanished and Drift waited, seeing the corners of his vision starting to fold in on him. His breathing was ragged, and he could feel energon working up into his nose.

            He just laid there, hiccuping, frame hurting too much to move, not caring to move. His face and spark hurt terribly, and he could hear the soft click of his audio suddenly cutting out. Darkness ebbed over him, and he welcomed it. He wanted nothing more than to just sleep this nightmare off. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day.


	2. Aches

            The horrible ringing in Drifts audio stirred him from the place he was laying. Putting in no effort to even try and get up, he focused on just getting his optics to comeback online. Several times they failed, and on his HUD he could see the error message flashing at him and low energon warnings. Something he hadn't seen in a long time, not since his days living on the streets waking up beside a dumpster.

            He parted his lips, confused as to why they seemed so sticky. Then came the terrible tang of cycled energon in his mouth. His glossa was coated in it, and he made a sour face which immediately changed to pain as he tried to move his jaw.

            Optics dimming online slowly, his eyebrows came together as the ceiling of the washroom came into view. Granted everything was hazy and static danced its way across the vision field but he could make it out. He squinted trying to recall what the hell happened last night and why he was where he was.

            He remembered going to the bar, drinking with Perceptor, seeing Ratchet, and then the fog rolled over his processor. Fragments returned to him, cracking his mirror, sneaking into the lab, taking the file. Filing his denta.

            His optics shot back open, his mouth hanging open a bit and a horrible burning pain shooting through all of his denta. He hadn't really done it? Had he?

            He lifted a hand, feeling it stick to the floor a bit as he brought it forward in front of his face to look at his servos. He could feel his spark jump in his chest at the crusted energon that was all over it.

            A memory fragment flashed across his optics and he remembered having to fight with himself just to grind down the fang nubs. He remember the file slipping out of his hand and having to pick it up again several times.

            He swallowed, feeling a bit of energon also go down his intake as he started to open his mouth. It was excruciating at first, so much so he could only get it open an inch. He took in a shaky breath, letting his hand fall down and two servos slip into the gap he made in his mouth.

            They moved to one side, feeling for the place a fang would have inhabited to come across nothing but empty space. He tried to touch the sheered denta nub, only getting stars across his vision now as pain shot right up through his jaw into each finial.

            His legs kicked out and he let out a loud yelp, rolling onto his side and holding his tank, suddenly feeling like purging as the radiating pain got worse and worse. They hurt like hell, and the aching didn't stop for what felt like forever.

            When the feeling to purge faded enough for him to move, he rolled onto his front and lifted himself onto his hands and knees. Even in this position he felt weak and tired. His arms trembled, struggling to support his weight.

            He gagged, seeing all the energon on the flood and a pool that must have formed while he laid there last night. He was lucky to fall into the shower, as the pool had been swirling around the drain and vanishing. Though the amount that still remained on the floor was startling to say the least.

            Grabbing the shower support bar, he pulled himself up to his feet. Standing like a new born fawn, he had to keep holding the bar until he knew he was steady enough to walk. Careful not to sleep in his own energon, if he fell down again he surely wouldn't even try to get up, just accepting his fate to lay on the floor for the day.

            Stepping out of the shower, Drift moved over to the sink were he immediately grimaced. The inner sink was stained pink, the bloodies file laying at the bottom crusted over with old energon.

            He felt his tank turn and the need to purge return, though he had to swallow the knot down too afraid purging would cause his denta to ache even more. Plus he didn't want to think how much cycled energon was sitting in his tan already.

            Turning the faucet on, Drift started to slowly clean off the file and then move onto cleaning off the sink. While it rinsed, he turned the shower on and waited for it to get warm. Hopefully by the time he got in the energon at the bottom would be all gone and he wouldn't have to see it anymore.

            He inhaled, finding it a bit hard as one side of his nose was blocked, and he looked up into the mirror, also regretting it.

            Both sides of his face were swollen, his cheeks pale and his optics looking sunken into his head. Dried up energon was speckled all over his chin and he could see some of it had come out through his nose and had clogged one side. He looked like hell and felt like it, angry he had gotten into a fight with himself and Deadlock rung his bell.

            He leaned in close, trying his best to smile into the mirror but finding it difficult since everywhere around his face hurt. He saw his denta, though stained pink, all perfectly in a row. No fangs stuck out, except for his bottom row which he hadn't really done much to.

            He leaned back, closing his mouth and looking back down into the sink to watch the running water a while. Inside his mouth he ran his glossa gently over the underside of his denta, wincing as it stung and he pulled back.

            He frowned, not quite feeling better about any of it at all. Inside, his spark seemed to grow heavy, after all that he still felt the same. That anger swirling and clawing to get out, but he kept it hidden. Maybe he just needed time, maybe he would feel better once the swelling went down and the taste of energon was out of his mouth and he had gotten into a better place to rest than the tile floor.

            He sighed, turning and getting into the shower. Standing below the spout, he kept his head down, letting the water pelt over his finials and stream down sore neck and back. Meanwhile he rubbed his hands together, his servos and wrists aching from all the physical strain he had put on them. Maybe an oil bath later would help. Maybe he could convince Ratchet to give him some medical grade solvents. Probably make up an excuse that he pulled something during his training in the morning.

            Rolling his neck, Drift let out a loud exhale and grabbed a washcloth. Putting solvent on it, he rubbed it together until it bubbled then started to dab at the front of his frame. Some areas like the top of his chestplate were really covered, and he could feel some of his neck cables sticking together.

            He took his time, cleaning and then rinsing himself off until every little bit of evidence was gone. He tilted his head back, opening his mouth as wide as he could even though it hurt and filled his mouth with water.

            He gargled, spat, then repeated the act a few times to rinse his mouth out. The tang of energon was still there, and he kept rinsing hoping it would fade but remained. The water hurt his denta, the sheer temperature making them ache, but it wasn't as bad as actually touching them. For now it was tolerable and he just accepted it.

            Turning the shower off, Drift stepped out and dried himself off then dropped the wet towel to the floor. He stepped on it and dragged it around, clearing up some of the energon then picking it back up and hanging it on the rack to be washed.

            Giving a quick glance into the mirror one more time, Drift took a deep breath. The crack still went perfectly across his face and he turned away, not wanting to look at himself anymore than he had to.

            Heading back out into his hab, he went to a small fridge and opened it. Ratchet had been kind enough a long time ago to give him a few cubes of medical grade in case he ever needed it. He knew Drift wasn't the type to come in for small repairs and to keep from worrying about him he figured just giving him some medicines would be enough.

            Silently thanking Ratchet, Drift pulled a cube out and cracked it into a glass. The medical grade was a neon green and had a thicker consistency than normal energon. It didn't exactly taste good, but it didn't taste terrible either.

            He put the glass to his lips, walking over to the large window in his hab and tossing the entire things back. His face puckered, but he swished the medical grade around in his mouth before swallowing. It burned, and he felt his jaw and nose throb. The tips of his finials grew hot and he made a loud, "Ahh!" Noise after he swallowed.

            Going back over to the little fridge, he pulled out some ice and set it in a cloth. Gently, he pressed it to one side of his cheek, hissing a bit at the cold and the ache but relaxing as it settled. There was no way he could be seen with a swollen face and not asked what happened. He figured it probably was better that he stayed in anyway.

            He sat on his berth, is free hand going for another medical grade cube to crack into his glass. Once full, he took it into his hand and nursed it this time. He felt heavy and sick, the low energon reading still flashing on his hud but slowly starting to quiet down the more medical grade he drank. It did a wonderful job of numbing the pained areas.

            Flicking on his holo screen, he leaned back and hunkered down. No shame in catching up on some shows while he recovered.

 

* * *

 

 

            The swelling on his cheeks having gone down enough Drift looked slightly back to normal, he decided to go pay a visit to Ratchet. Apologize again for what happened the night before and storming out. Hopefully Ratchet wasn't angry at him.

            He knocked on the me-bay door, the lights were on now, and Ratchet was sitting in the corner of the room by his desk.

            "Drift?" He said looking up and setting his deta pad down.

            "I'm sorry about last night."

            "You don't have to be, Drift. It's nothing. Really. It's not a big deal." Going to get up, Drift held out his hand to him to stay sitting as he walked over. he had to be careful not to get to close or Ratchet might see the still red and swollen bit of his face.

            "I know, but I just wanted to say I was sorry. I wasn't careful. I wasn't thinking. Haha... you should know cut back on the fangs a bit. Maybe shave them down so I don't prick you anymore." He grit his denta, optics twitching as his jaw throbbed in protest.

            "A little extreme and not necessary." Ratchet shook his head. "Are you sure you're alright?" 

            "What?" Drift stood at attention, his spark beat picking up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired. Long night last night." Nervously rubbing at the back of his neck, Drift took a step back. "I just came by to ask of you had any extra medical grade cubes? My supply is low." A lie at first, though he had drank half his supply just this morning trying to get the energon warning to go away.

            "Yeah, in the back. Are you sure you're alright." A weary eyebrow, and again Ratchet went to stand and again Drift stopped him.

            "I can get it, I've disturbed you enough. I know where the back is." Quickly, Drift moved past Ratchet and into the back. He was in and out of the boxes faster than ever. Pulling out a bunch of cubes, he stuffed as many as he could fit into his sub space then put some in his hands and walked out. "Thanks doc." He waved and winked at Ratchet, though when he smiled he kept his mouth closed, not yet wanting to reveal his fangs were missing. Especially to Ratchet.

 

* * *

 

 

            Hurrying down the hall, Drift pushed the cubes he had in hand into his subspace, having only kept a few in his hands to trick Ratchet into thinking he was only just restocking and not actually in any kind of trouble.

            As he walked, he couldn't help but rub at the side of his jaw and move it around. It felt tight and all he wanted was for that annoying zing he felt every few minutes to leave him alone. Maybe a few more cubes of medical grade would help but as of right now he was looking at a few days of recovery time.

            He hadn't been paying attention and walked right by Perceptor who was waving at him. As he brushed by, Perceptor turned and frowned, confused that Drift hadn't even made eye contact with him.

            "Drift?" He said and noticed Drift finally stop and turn to face him. His finials jumped up and he pulled his hand away from his jaw quickly.

            A pit in his tank started to rumble around. What if Perceptor had noticed his file missing. What if he had gone to his hab and seen it on the sink next to the towel he knew was covered in his energon. What would he say, how would he react.

            He opened his mouth to say something but found no words coming out as Perceptor moved closer to him. When he was a few feet away Drift snapped his mouth shut and looked down at the scientist.     

            "Primus, Drift, you look like hell. What happened to you?" A sudden wave of relief washed over him and he sagged a bit but had to regain his composure quickly if he didn't want Perceptor to become suspicious.

            "Ah... I just had a long night. Went back to my hab, had too much to drink and fell is all. Slept on the floor. So... look like a hot mess today."

            He tensed, seeing Perceptor look him over, he then sighs and puts all his weight to one hip.

            "I agree, a _hot_ mess, but still Drift, you should be careful. If you fell and something bad happened something terrible could have happened to you." Not that it already had and had been self inflicted, he just nodded to him.

            "I will be, Percy. I'll be careful. No more drinks after midnight I promise" A small laugh and again he pressed his lips together. "I'm going to go get some proper rest now."

            "Alright, I'll see you later then." Perceptor leaned forwards, wanting to give Drifts cheek a soft peck but was surprised when he suddenly pulled back. Drift had never done that before. Not that he had done it often but this was new. "I'm sorry, maybe now wasn't the time."

            "Ah, no no, I just... you know Percy I really never was much of a kisser." That wasn't true. Drift wanted nothing more than to press his own lips against Perceptors. Wanted nothing more than for him to kiss him back and hold him tight, but if he had kissed his cheek right now he would have hurt him. Giving the terrible thing he had done last night away, and he couldn't live with Perceptor knowing he had botched his own mouth apart just to fit in a little longer with a crowed he knew he was never going to be a part of.

            "Right then... I'll just be on my way. If you need anything let me know. You're face looks a bit swollen, maybe you should see Ratchet. You may have hit it when you fell." Taking Drifts hand and giving it a light squeeze, Perceptor smiled at him and then walked off.

            Drifts spark felt like it split in two, he probably just hurt Perceptor from pulling away from him. Long before there were nights He would purposely leaning in until Percy kissed his cheek, now he was making it seem like he didn't want that anymore. What if he stopped talking to him all together now? He surely was sending mixed signals.

            Shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, Drift headed back off to his hab. Opening his subspace and dumping out all of the new medical grade cubes onto his berth. he stacked all of them except two up and stuffed them into his fridge.

            Taking the two he had, he cracked them open and dumped them into his dirty glass and downed it. The throbbing faded only a few minutes after he drank it, though his tank wasn't appreciating all of the medical grade as it wasn't supposed to be taking in mass quantities as such.

            The side effects seemed minimal to him compared to his denta ache. he was tired and just getting grumpy from the events with Percy and laid down. Making the mistake of laying on his side and resting his cheek on his pillow he immediately laid on his back.

            Laying with his arms and legs spread out, he stared up at the ceiling a while, just thinking. After all that had happened last night, he didn't feel any better. He still hid his denta from both Ratchet and Perceptor, so had it truly been worth it? At some point he would have to smile, Perceptor or Ratchet would make him smile. There was no way they would tolerate him frowning all the time, not without thinking something was bother him. At some point someone would have to know his fangs were gone and want an explanation as to why. Maybe if he was lucky the Lost Light would set down on a vacation and he could say he got it down when they were grounded. Though that would only work if they landed any time soon and as far as he knew they were not.

            Closing his optics and running through lie after lie he could try to tell, nothing seemed to really work out. Maybe if he was lucky everybody would just forget and stop staring now that they were gone and he could move on. Forget, and live his life.

            As he thought about fitting in, his frame relaxed and his mind wandered off into darkness and a much needed proper recharge crept over him.


	3. Run Boy Run

A week had passed and Drift’s condition hadn’t exactly gotten better. He felt no different, and even though the throbbing in his jaw had died down, it still tingled from time to time.

            It felt strange, running his glossa along the top of his denta to feel the smooth surface off all the teeth lined up in a row. To think, if he had been an Autobot or maybe even not affiliated with anybody they may have turned out normal. His frame wouldn’t have been broken and battered rebuilt only for him to constantly have to change it. Maybe several more bots would have been alive if he had made the right choices all those years ago. He wished he had, maybe things would be better, maybe not.  It all swirled around in his processor and he would hear himself whimpering sometimes.

            Sitting up, Drift rubbed the side of his face. It still ached, and he wondered if he had done any lasting damage. The medical grade he had taken was helping but already, he was low. If he went to get more Ratchet would surely know something was wrong, and he really didn’t want to steal from him. He wondered if Ratchet even kept inventory, probably not since who would want to steal gross tasting medical grade. Maybe if he was lucky he could sneak a few more, but only a few more. It wasn’t right for him to take from Ratchet when he had already given him so much. He was the first to truly believe he could do anything, be something, and be somebody important. He wanted nothing more than to prove Ratchet right, make him proud, but at this rate he was nothing to be proud of.

            Staring at his peds a moment, his finials perked up when he remembered Perceptor had given him his refined candy. All this time he had kept it crammed in his subspace.

            Taking it out, he looked the candy over, glad it had not been damaged when he shoved the medical grade into his subspace earlier. It was still round and gave off a faint glow and no doubt Perceptor was waiting to hear how it tasted.

            Popping it into his mouth he bit down, already feeling his denta and jaw protest to the candy. Though it wasn’t until the sweet liquid broke free from the hard casing did it really hurt. The liquid splashed over his missing fangs, going over the raw spot and burning it so badly, Drift’s head jerked back and he shook. He stood, rushing to his washroom and to the sink where he gathered water into his hand then drank it out.

            Swishing out his mouth he spat and sadly watched as the sweet energon swirled down the drain. Unfortunately for him, the burn was still there and his jaw throbbed angrily. He should have known better for trying to eat something hard, something that would have required any kind of jaw strength.

            Falling back from the sink, Drift sat on the edge of the tub and put his hands to his face. He hadn’t slept well in days, constantly being woken up every time he tried to roll over and sleep on his side, his denta wouldn’t allow it. Headaches came and went, his finials ached and his neck hurt all the time and he would have killed for some sort of massage.

            He thought maybe medication would help ease his mind but he couldn’t focus, not when his glossa always found its way back to the missing spaces where his fangs used to be. He wasn’t used to not pricking his glossa, though the taste of energon had somehow lasted. As if his mouth was still full of energon, no matter how many times he rinsed or washed his mouth out it always tasted like he was bleeding.

            Pulling the remaining bit of candy out of his mouth, Drift looked down at it in his palm sadly. What bit of it he had managed to taste was incredible, but not worth the pain if he wanted more. Which he now assumed eating anything remotely hard was a bad idea and that a liquid diet was now certain until the pain stopped. When that was, he didn’t know, hopefully soon since losing sleep was making him cranky.

            Trudging back to his berth and sitting, he noticed his personal data pad was blinking. He knew that preceptor had been pinging for the past few days asking him if he was okay. He knew he had worried him, though he probably was making it worse by ignoring him.

            Drift did all he could to avoid him, even taking different routes to and from the training rooms just so he wouldn’t run into him. He was glad he didn’t have to worry about Ratchet to much since he always worked. Though it still did make him sad, since he missed seeing the two of them. Missed waving and saying good morning and goodnight. Now it was secluded silence on all three ends.

            Picking up the data pad, Drift turned the screen on and scrolled through the messages. All had been Perceptor asking if he was okay or that he stopped by the training room to see him but he was always gone when he got off shift. The last message was asking to meet him in the bar for a drink, just the two of them to talk. Like hold times. He smiled a bit, noticing Perceptor had put a time and a following message that said it was okay if he didn’t come, but he would be there if he wanted to talk.

            He did owe Perceptor that much, to at least make up for the other night. He would buy him a few drinks, small talk with him, maybe it would fill the void he was feeling in his chest. It was wide and had only grown since the night he sheared his denta. He couldn’t figure out why, considering he had done it to just fit in a little while longer. He should have felt better by now, should have felt like he belonged, but no, still he floated further and further away.

            Sending a ping back to Perceptor that he was on his way, Drift stood up and stretched, careful not to do too much to his neck in fear it would strain his jaw.

            Getting only a single cube of medical grade and cracking it open, he took slow sips, licking at his lips and waiting for a ping back to Perceptor. When he got an open mouthed smiley face back from him, he himself smiled and chugged the remaining but of medical grade.

            He gave a quick wipe down of his frame, trying to look less homely than he already was. Thanks to the medical grade the swelling had gone completely down on his face and he looked normal to anybody who now passed him. Hopefully Perceptor would think so, since he had seen him the other night looking like he had gotten into a fight.

            Shaking his frame a bit to loosen some tense wires, he headed right out of his hab and right for Swerve’s.

 

* * *

 

 

Perceptor was sitting in a booth all the way in the back, one that Cyclonus liked to inhabit but wasn’t currently in the bar. It was funny for Drift to imagine Perceptor kicking out the big mech just so they could sit there. He figured Perceptor had picked the spot to make it harder for any others to listen in on their conversation. Mostly Swerve and Whirl, though Swerve meant well when he talked, Whirl did just liked to gossip.

            “Hey.” Drift slid himself into the booth opposite side of Perceptor and gave a small smile, just barely showing his denta.

            “I’m really glad you could come. I ordered you a drink when you pinged me, I hope you don’t mind.”

            “Not at all, thank you.” His finials perked up as Perceptor slid a glass across the table over to him. It was a different colored energon, a much brighter pink than usual. Which meant it was sweeter than usual. A pit formed in Drift’s tank as his denta started to throb just in thought about drinking the sweetened energon. What made the pit worse was when Perceptor set down several more rounded energon candies in front of him and pushed some in his direction.

            “I wasn’t sure if you liked the first one, but I made some more anyway. I think I will give some to Ratchet. He has a sweet tooth.” Perceptor laughed, though it trailed off as he noticed Drift’s paling face. “Drift?”

            “Ah… yeah, he likes candies. Keeps a box on his desk. Only eats them when he is alone though. He doesn’t like others knowing he has a soft spot for them.” He has to fight with himself to take the candies Perceptor offers him into hand. “The one you gave me was… great. I can take these to Ratchet if you like?” He saw an opportunity to get back into the med bay, maybe take two of three more medical grades. Though the thought hurt him and he wanted nothing more than to kick himself for even considering robbing Ratchet behind his back.

            “Listen, about the other night I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have… well I shouldn’t have done what I did. You were obviously… well something was wrong and I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you.” Perceptor looked down at his drink while Drift’s mouth hung slightly open in shock.

            “N-No no! Percy it wasn’t you. Don’t be sorry, please, I just haven’t had a good week. Some things got to me and I… I was just out of it.” Reaching across the table, Drift took one of Perceptor’s black hands and squeezed it. “Don’t apologize.” He took the chance and smiled, though of course Perceptor was the only one who never stared at his mouth so he wouldn’t have noticed the missing fangs anyway.

            It felt good, finally, when Perceptor gave a small smile in return to him and nodded.

            “You look a bit better today, though tired. Is there something you want to talk about? I mean we don’t have to if it’s something personal, but I am all audio if you want too.” Another kind smile and he squeezed Drift’s hand back.

            For a moment Drift wanted to just smile really wide, hopefully Perceptor would take the hint and finally notice something was missing, but he thought against it. So far Perceptor hadn’t noticed his missing file and he sure as hell didn’t want to explain how they had vanished. He could lie and say Ratchet helped but the chances of him asking Ratchet were far too high considering the two sometimes had lunch together. He chose to just shrug and shake his head, free hand playing with some of the condensation on the side of his energon glass.

            “Everything is fine Percy. Just needed some time alone is all.” A half lie, since his denta were feeling better day by day but Drift himself wasn’t okay. He slipped further and further into a deep dark place and kept it to himself to keep Ratchet and Perceptor from worrying. Instead of throwing out his arms for help to be caught, he kept them tight to his chest and let himself sink down into despair.

            "Alright, but the offer will always stand no matter what. You know you can talk to me about anything." Taking a sip of his drink, the two of them continued to small chat. Drift talking about the new oils he had found to polish his sword with and how much he liked them while Perceptor in turn talked about some new soil samples he had gathered when they were last touched down on a planet.

            Drift was enjoying Perceptor’s company, glad he had decided to come out, though when Perceptor was cut off in mid-sentence to look at a ping he had gotten, he frowned.

            "I'm sorry Drift, I have to head back to the lab, it seems Brainstorm needs help with something." Perceptor slipped from the booth, pushing his empty energon glass to the edge of the table with him.

            "That's alright, we can talk more another time." Drift still had his hands around his drink, not having taken a single sip out of it since he had gotten there. He could see Perceptor looking at it sometimes but figured maybe Drift was more interested in talking than drinking. "I'll see you later Percy." Drift gave a tight lipped smile.

            Setting his hand on Drift’s shoulder and squeezing, Perceptor headed out on his way and Drift just sat and stared at his drink a while. After a point he stood up and decided he would go give the candies Perceptor made to Ratchet.

 

* * *

 

 

When Drift entered the med-bay the only bot he saw was First Aid who was quietly putting some papers together. He didn't look up right away, not hearing Drift until he got close enough to him to feel his EM field.

            "Aid," Drift looked around, not seeing Ratchet, "do you know where the big doc is?" He looked down at the younger medic who tilted his head to the side.

            "He's in the supply closet putting some new stuff away." He shuffled the papers, clipping them and then setting them down only to pick up new ones. "Do you need help with something?" He stopped a moment, his visor brightening as he looked Drift over for any sign of distress. The only thing he noticed were his finials were tipped slightly farther back than usual.

            "No, I'm fine, just have something for him." He watched as First Aid tilted his head to the back room again and without another word Drift went into the back.

            He stood in the doorway, watching Ratchet for a moment crouch down and rifle through a big box. He pulled out packaged bandages and new containers of what Drift could only imagine as medicines. He doesn't notice Drift until he cleared his throat.

            "Drift?"

            "Hey, I have something for you." Pulling the candies from his subspace, he noticed Ratchet’s optics light up in the dark closet.

            "Oh~" He stood up, heading over and looking over the sweets. "Percy is making these, isn't he?"

            "Yeah, he was going to give them to you but was busy." Dropping every one of the pieces of the candy Perceptor had given him into Ratchet’s hands, he closed his servos over them.

            "I'll put these in my drawer." He was all smiles, though it faded back to a grumpy look as he left the room. He didn't want First Aid to know he had a soft spot for sweets.

            As Drift was left alone for a moment, he rushed over to several of the open boxes and dug through them. At first he was desperate to find new medical grade, and the further down he got into the box the more guilty he started to feel. Only when he found some, he just leaned back and stared at them. He told his hands to take only one or two but his body didn't listen. His hands stayed hovering over the cubes a while longer before taking the sides to the box and folding them back down.

            Shuttering his optics closed, Drift just shook his head. Was really stealing like this going to help his cause in fitting in, because so far he was getting further and further from it; he was sure there was no turning back.

            Except he could turn back, right at this moment.

            Standing, he turned away from the box, walking to the door and stopping a moment to glance over his shoulder at it before leaving. Immediately heading back out into the ward, he saw Ratchet talking to First Aid.

            Completely brushing by First Aid, Drift wrapped his arms around Ratchet and buried his face into his chest. His finials dropped in submission and he made no sound.

            Ratchet, shocked, had his arms slightly up, not sure what to do at first but then slowly put his hands on Drift’s back.

            "Drift?"          

            "I'm sorry." Drift mumbled into Ratchet’s windshield before letting him go and rushing out.

First Aid looked just as confused as Ratchet and looked from the door back to Ratchet back to the door.

            "What was that about?"

            "I... don't know." Ratchet said as he headed for the door and stood in the hall, seeing Drift round the corner in a hurry.

 

* * *

 

 

Drift tripped and fell hard to the ground, though he wasn't there long as a terrible panic was washing over him and he clawed his way up to his feet.

            He had been running, alley through alley just to get away from that horrible laugh he was hearing. Running through the maze of buildings to get away from the tall black shadow that seemed to be waiting for him at every corner he took.

            He nearly slipped again as he took a right turn and slammed his back against the wall, trying his best to catch his breath.

            He licked his lips, taking a moment to peek around the corner only to see nobody was in the alley he had come from. Nothing but a bit of smoke wafted around on the ground and he went back to his position on the wall.

            He couldn't remember how he got here, or why he was here. All he knew was he had to run, had to get away, though it seemed no matter where he hid the shadow was always right there behind him.

            His breathing slowed and he decided to peek around the corner one more time.

            A figure silhouetted by the light stood in the dead center of the alleyway. No features other than the pointed finials and burning crimson optics could be made out, and then came the low laugh.

            _Drift._

            Spark pounding, Drift pulled back hard, optics wide and only getting wider as he head the figure’s footsteps getting closer and closer.

            _You can't run from me._

Drift squeezed his optics shut, trying his best to stay quiet until the figure’s voice was right by the side of his head.

            _Drift._

            Drift jumped back, optics snapping open as Deadlock’s face was only an inch from his own. He smiled long rows of sharp denta at him, giggling as he moved closer and closer.

            _Run!_

            He did, turning and taking off in the fastest sprint his legs could carry him. He didn't look back, pouring on the steam to run as far as he could. Taking turn after turn and finding himself only getting lost further into this maze of buildings.

            He took a corner, skidding to a stop as Deadlock stood in the middle of it, smiling with his head tilted slightly to the side.

            "No!" Drift shouted at him, twisting his frame around to run back but stopping as Deadlock was right behind him.

            _You'll never escape me!_

Deadlock roared at him as he slammed his fist right into the side of Drift’s face, sending him staggering back until he hit the wall.

            Hot energon started to rush from his mouth, and he tried to cover it, feeling it already spurting between his servos. It was unnatural how fast it was coming out, and he started to panic as he felt something in his hand.

            "W-what's happening to me?!" He coughed, accidently inhaling some energon and choking as he pulled his hand away and saw a few of his denta floating in the energon in his palm. "What's happening?!" He gagged, more denta falling out, faster and faster they dropped from his mouth.

            His spark jumped in his chest, trying desperately to stop the flow and loss of denta but they just kept coming. More denta than what should have been in his mouth kept falling out, piling up around him as Deadlock watched on and cackled.

            As Drift sobbed hysterically, Deadlock got down on his haunches and grabbed Drift’s face. He squeezed his cheeks, as he forced him to look into his optics.

            Energon flowed from the corners of Drift’s mouth and out both of his nostrils. Coolant was welling in his optics and he just stared into Deadlock’s dead gaze. A part of him knew he had given that same exact look to countless bots he had knelt down next to and slaughtered.

            _Remember, I'm here forever._

            Deadlock ran his servos over the scraped off Autobot badge on Drift’s chest before pulling his free hand back and making a fist. A swift punch and the world around Drift went out.

 

* * *

 

 

Sitting up with a loud gasp, Drift grabbed at his chest. He arched, hyperventilating and flailing his arms and legs around a bit before the world around him came into focus.

            He was on his berth, tangled up in the blankets from struggling in his nightmare. His frame was coated in coolant and he quickly jumped up from the berth and looked around.

            He was safe, everything was in place just how he left it when he had fallen asleep. His swords lay against the wall in the corner of the room, some old towels lay scattered on the floor and several empty cubes of medical grade sat on his desk and table.

            Running his arm across his forehead, Drift slowly made his way into his washroom where he filled the sink with water and splashed some up onto his hot cheeks.

            "Frag... " He groaned, looking up into the cracked mirror. Dark rings were present under his optics, his lips dry and cracked and he tried licking them to help.

            He paused, his glossa hitting something in his mouth that felt a little too familiar. He waited, feeling it to make sure he wasn't imagining it before opening his mouth and looking closely into the mirror.

            His optics widened at the sight of his fangs, though half the size of his original ones, were present in his mouth. They must have been steadily growing back, which is why his jaw had started to feel better in the past few days.

            Stepping back from the mirror, his hands and face started to get hot as he began to panic.

            _You're never going to get away from me._

            He heard Deadlock whisper in the back of his mind.

            _Never._

            Drift yanked the sinks counter drawer open and snatched up the file that was inside. He leaned over the sink, dimming his optics and squeezing the file, gritting his denta in frustration.

            Why couldn't they just stay gone? Why couldn't they just not grow back? Maybe he didn't file them down far enough, maybe this time they would stay gone if he went a little lower.

            Bringing the file up to his mouth, he opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based Drifts nightmare off an Nightmare I had. As if you have followed me on Royalwrecker you may have seen me mention I have nightmares about my teeth falling out all the time. So I figured I would use what I saw in my own dream to my advantage~


	4. Guilty

            The second time was just as bad as the first round, if not worse. His jaw remembered the pain, and his hand didn’t want to move. Frame froze and he stared at himself in the mirror, he had to force every bit of whatever was left of his will power just to get his body to listen to him. His arm felt like lead, and every time he tried to bring it to his lips he felt as if the floor was crumbling under his legs and he would fall to his doom.

            Mouth open, the file went in, and he didn’t hesitate this time. Grinding down on one of the fang tips, the horrible hot searing pain came. It radiated up the sides of his face to his optics, making them water. With time, thick globs of coolant rolled down his cheek and he could feel the start of some seeping out of his nose.

            The loud high pitched ringing returned to his audio and all he could hear was the terrible noise of his denta being ground down to nothing. He whimpered, watching himself in the mirror and seeing the dust from the denta cover his lips, hand, and all along the files top.

            Energon flew as his hand worked, though this time he was much more prepared. His grip was like iron on the file so it wouldn’t slip from his grasp this time. Though he could feel it slipping from time to time when energon started to coat most of his hand. He felt it trailing down his arm and dripping off his elbow, no doubt gather in the floor below his ped.

            He gagged, his free hand latched onto the side of the sink. All he wanted to do was stop, but his hand just kept going. Stopping half way through wasn’t an option and it drove him to work faster and faster.

            When he was done he threw the file into the sink, and roared down into it. Energon splattered all over and seeped from his mouth in thick strands. No matter how much he spat it just kept coming and coming.

            He thought it would have been easier this time, but the panic was still there, the fear he would lose too much energon. His spark pounded a mile a minute, and he brought a shaking hand to his chest as if it would have slowed it.

            “Mhm…” Baring his bloodied denta to the mirror, he shuddered at the sight and quickly put his head back down to the sink. White face stained once again, he looked as if he had been sucker punched in the mouth. “Slag it.” Slamming his fist on the sinks side, he winced as a pain shot though his form. It was worse, the second round of filing. He could see the corners of his vision becoming grainy as a darkness ebbed it way over him. His head became light and he felt like he was going to purge. His shoulder and wrist joints ached from the labor it took to work the file, but he ignored the burn.

            He held onto the sink as his legs trembled and became weak and he slowly went down. At first he knelt, then slowly got himself on his aft and leaned against the wall. He welcomed the cool tiles on his back on his boiling plating.

            The room started to wobble, and he had to really keep himself balanced. His breathing increased and he could feel energon that seeped from his mouth trickle down onto his chestplate.

            Shuttering his optics closed, Drift took in a shaky breath and exhaled. Doing the best he could to calm down, he just let his head rest back a moment. While he waited, the dizziness faded, but the pain only grew stronger. His jaw felt like it had been torn in two and he could feel his finials throbbing which caused his jaw to hurt in turn.

            Slowly getting onto his hands and knees, he crawled his way back into his main hab and to his fridge. His spark sank when he opened it and only saw two cubes of medical grade energon left. He hadn’t realized he had burned through it as fast as he had.

            Taking them from the fridge, he popped them open and downed them right from the cube itself. Taking large thick gulps, he tossed the empty first cube aside and then chugged the second.

            He waited a moment for it to take effect but it hardly even put a dent in the pain. So much so he screamed in frustration and slammed his hand on the fridge door. Pulling his first free from the dent, he covered his face with his hands and cried.

            Sobbing until his jaw hurt too much to go on, he slowly climbed to his peds and looked around for any other cubes he may have had stashed anyplace. It was too bad for him that he didn’t and he had drained every last one to the final drop including is emergency supply.

            Pulling on his servos, Drifts processor started to race as he thought about going to the med-bay. If Drift remembered Ratchets schedule correctly, he should have had the night off along with First Aid.

            Drift paced, his finals sinking low as he whimpered. It hurt, and he was getting terribly desperate. It would only be a few cubes, nothing missed. He would return the favor to Ratchet when he could right?

            Getting a cloth and wiping his bloodied face down, Drift tossed it aside and made his way out of his hab into the hall. Planning a direct route out to the med-bay, he flew by anybody else who happened to be in the hall. Luckily he only passed Trailbreaker who was too drunk to really process Drift was passing him.

            As Drift got to the main med-bay doors, he just stood on the outside looking in through the glass. As he thought most of the lights were off except for a couple few in case of an emergency. He knew the door was locked and would have an alarm if someone tried to force their way in. Though Drift was lucky to have been third in command and also been close enough with Ratchet that he had given him the door code ages ago.

            If Ratchet knew what he was doing with it now he probably never would have let him had it all that time ago. Probably would have slapped him upside a final and lectured him.      

            He wanted to smile, but the thought even hurt him and he was quick to punch the code in, delighted when the doors opened for him and he stepped in.

            Locking it behind him, he looked around, then made a quick jog to the back supply closet. He was glad it wasn't locked and that the handle turned with no problem. He wasn't sure if he should have been surprised Ratchet kept it unlocked considering the main door was locked and when it wasn't there was always someone in the med-bay to watch it.

            Once the door was open, Drift nearly tore it from its hinges, excited he had gotten in so easily. He had already had a terrible night, the last thing he wanted was to have to punch a hole through the door just to get a fix on some medical grade.

            He stormed in, heading right for the boxes he knew the medical grade had been stored in and viciously tore them open. Tossing the cardboard all over, he dug through the stuffing and yanked the bright green cubes free. His spark aced and his jaw roared with pain, and he squeezed a cube so hard it shattered in his hand. It startled him at first, but then he started to lick it all off, not wanting to waste such a precious thing, not when stuff like this was going to become limited in his condition.

            Once his hand was clean he moved to a new cube and cracked it open. He downed it in two thick gulps then moved onto several other cubes that had been in the box. One after another he drained them all till the box was empty. Not even thinking about how many he had already had, he tore then next box open and started to drink them all down one by one. Tossing the empty cubes behind him, he ate through dozens until his frame started to feel unstable and wobbly.

            Feeling loopy, he pushed back from the boxes and sat against a wall, wiping his mouth and hissing when his sheared fangs shocked him again. Barely, he could make out the ten or twelve cubes he had drained and maybe a few others. Though his vision swirled and he had to keep himself from purging it all up.

            Swallowing hard, he closed his optics and just waited, feeling the medical grade boost his levels back up and slowly take away bits of the pain until it was finally manageable. What wasn’t manageable was how terrible Drift suddenly felt for doing just a thing.

            Breaking into the med-bay, stealing from Ratchet, making a mess, and all just to be able to smile at a table with a bunch of other bots who would never think of him as anything other than Deadlock.

            Nervous servos touched around Drifts face, feeling the swollen plating, though hopefully with the amount of medical grade he had just ingested it would go down faster than the last time.

            He sat in the corner for a while, sniffling and running his glossa all over the inside of his mouth. The ground down nubs hurt to touch, though he couldn’t stop doing it because it felt so strange without them there even now.

            Unaware, he had been picking at his already scuffed off badge on his chest plate. Pealing the paint off little by little, sometimes he could really dig his servos into it and leave long streaks across the plating. Ratchet would yell at him whenever he had seen him doing it and would often take his hand and hold it to keep him from continuing.

            Drift would always then smile at him and relax, feeling better but without Ratchet to do that very thing now he was just picking and picking until a little bit of energon seeped from a gouge.

            Drift made a sour face as the medical grade taste faded and he could taste his own energon again. No matter how hard he tried it wouldn’t fade and eating sweets was out of the question. Every other swallow as his own energon and he even brought his servos up to his mouth, letting them in then pulling them out to look at the stained servo tips. Still his gums bled, even with all the medical grade.

            Seeing a small box by his side, Drift pulled it over and opened it, rifling through a bit to find some mech pads that he then used to wipe down his mouth with. Using only a few he crumpled them up then set them down next to the broken cubes.

            His finials perked up when he heard the med-bay doors and close. Footsteps far too quiet to be Ratchets could be heard and Drift stood up fast.

            Pressing himself against the wall the best he could, he waited and saw First Aid walk over to his desk and start to go through some of the files. He made a soft sound of discontent then continued to flip through.

            Drift looked from him to the door then back at First Aid. There was no way he would have been able to sneak by him. The med-bay doors would have been too loud when they opened and given him away.

            His tank turned as an idea popped into his head, and it seemed to be the only option he had left if First Aid didn’t leave. Which, he didn’t. Drift watched him walk from his desk to some cabinets back to his desk a few times.

            Having no other choice but to be caught, Drift slowly crept from the closet and towards the little medic. He was stealthy enough that First Aid didn’t pick up on him, instead he just kept checking off some boxes on his paper work.

            When close enough, Drift slammed the side of his hand against the back of First Aids neck, hitting his spinal strut at a point that would knock him offline.

            As the little medic let out a surprised yelp and fell forwards, Drift caught him and set him in his chair. Carefully letting his head rest down in his arms, Drift even put his pen back in his hand and slipped a paper under him to make it look like he had just fallen asleep there. He doubted First Aid would have known who hit him anyway so it was likely he would believe he was dreaming.”

            “I’m sorry.” Pulling on his servos a moment and looking around to make sure nobody else may have seen what happened, Drift left.

            He was a bit sluggish to get back to his hab, the medical grade making him sleepy. He would have normally been more than happy to lay down and sleep but with Deadlock waiting to torment him in his dreams he would rather stay up.

 

* * *

 

 

            Head drooping as it became increasingly more difficult to stay awake through the night, Drift's optics slowly started to dim.

            Once in a while he would cough into his hand and feel energon spray onto his palm. He had come to the point he stopped looking, since it made him panic and it was just better to stop looking.

            His holo screen droned on some program he hadn’t really been paying much attention to. In reality he had been lost someplace in his mind, his free hand still picking at his missing badge.

            His head drooped more and his optics off-lined for a moment.

            _Drift._

            Snapping back up, Drift looked around and blinked rapidly to clear his static filled vision. Everything in the room was normal, and he slumped back down, shaking his head to clear his racing mind and returning his lost focus on the holo screen.

            _Drift._

Drift closed his optics, pressing his lips together and swallowing hard as he felt a warm breath on the side of his head. Then the warmth of a glossa that licked from the bottom of his jaw all the way up to the very tip of his finial.

            Slowly, he turned and looked at Deadlock, a knot in his throat as the con before him was smiling with rows of fangs unlike his originals. His glossa flicked out and he licked them.

            “You’re not real.” Coolant streamed down one of Drifts cheeks and he turned his head away. “I’m not you.” Grabbing his finials and squeezing, Drift shook his head, trying his best to rid deadlock from his mind. "You're not real. You're not here. _You're not here!_ " His vents wafted out a hot burst of air he had been holding in as an attempt to try and calm down. "You're not real."

            _Run as far and as fast as you can… I’ll be there waiting._

Tapping the gouged part of Drift's chest, Deadlock faded away, leaving Drift alone.

            _Always waiting._

* * *

 

 

Jumping awake, Drift looked around until he pinpointed what had woke him up. In the corner of the room his data pad was blinking and beeping. It's beeping was persist, meaning someone was calling him.

As he slowly rolled from the berth and went over, he picked it up and saw Ratchets name across the screen. He hesitated before clicking voice only, leaving the video feed blank.

            "Drift?" Ratchet popped up on screen, and he could be seen tapping his own screen when Drifts image didn't show up.

            "I'm here." Groggy, Drift rubbed one optic and set his jaw in a way his denta wouldn't touch.

            "I can't see you."

            "Yeah sorry I dropped my data pad the other day, must have broke it." He noted Ratchets doubtful look. "Need something?"

            "I was hoping you would get a drink with me. I was already headed to Swerves, figured I would see if you wanted to join me." A drink would be nice, though Drift thought about how his denta would feel about it.

            At the same time his tank rumbled, he hadn't been fueling properly other than the medical grade, though his systems seemed to be burning through it faster than usual. Hopefully asking for  straw wouldn't be to embarrassing.

            "Sure thing doc, just give me a bit. I'll meet you there. Order one for me." Clicking the data pad off, Drift tossed it on his berth then went into the washroom.

            He sighed, seeing some dried energon at the corners of his mouth and he wiped them away with a face cloth. He dabbed gentle around his jaw, sucking in air as he touched a few overly sensitive places. It brought coolant to his eyes but he pushed them back down.

            The pain was worse but if he managed it right he would be able to make it through the night with nothing more than a few hard jolts.  He just hoped they were not bad enough to draw out that loud whimper of his, because Ratchet would instantly pick up on it. He was already certain Ratchet was picking up on his little body cues, going out with Ratchet was putting his secret at risk. The plus side was that First Aid should have woken up by now and that he must have believe he dreamed what happen if Ratchet didn't mention he had been attacked. Though in the back of his mind he know he left the supply closet a mess, a part of him wanted to go back and clean it but he might be spotted. Another part of him felt terrible for even doing it and becoming that desperate for it. It was all too late now and he had to do what he did best and just move on.

            Splashing water up onto his face, Drift gathered some in his palm and drank it. Swishing it around his mouth a while, he spat and licked his lips. The very faint taste of energon was still present and he just sighed, having gotten used to it by now.

 

* * *

 

 

            Ratchet sat at the bar, half turned on the stool like always. He was talking with Swerve, and occasionally let out a soft chuckle at something the mini bot told him. Next to him, an open stool awaited Drift and a tall glass of Energon that had a faint pink glow to it.

            "Sorry to keep you waiting." Sliding himself onto the stool, Drift curved the corners of his mouth up but never broke his lips apart. "Just had to clean up a bit." Taking the energon glass in hand, Drift looked down at it and thanked Primus that Ratchet hadn't ordered the sweetened energon. Seemed Perceptor was only into the sweet stuff.

            "I've only been sitting a few minutes." Ratchet lifted his drink and took a sip, licking his lips then letting out a content sigh. "It's been a while since I have been in here. Been so busy in the med-bay. Lot of paper work to move around." He shrugged. "Can't complain, much quieter than the Clinic, though Whirl keeps me on my toes." Another laugh and he looked at Drift, expecting him to laugh along but instead got another weird smile.

            "Yeah, the quiet is nice." Except Drift certainly hadn't been getting any considering Deadlock whispered to him every chance he could get.

            Drift took a sip of his Drink, squeezing his optics shut as he felt the quick burn follow immediately after the liquid entered his mouth. His hand started to tremble, but he kept the glass up, taking large gulps in an attempt to empty at least half of the glass. At least that way it would look like he hadn't been avoiding his drink if it looked half done.

            He didn't notice Ratchet staring at his lower frame, mostly his stomach area. His optics narrowed a bit, mentally taking a note that Drift looked skinnier than usual. Maybe it was all in his head because he hadn't seen Drift around as often as he had, but it did look off.

            "Drift, about the hug the other day." He watched as Drift set his glass down and grip the glass to try and steady his shaking hand. "Not that I don't like hugs from you, but the 'sorry' that followed it worried me. Are you alright? Is something wrong? Anything at all? You know you can tell me if something is up." His normal hard expression softened.

            "I'm fine Ratchet, really. Just have a lot on my mind." Free hand coming up, Drift started to pick at his badge, which Ratchet noticed instantly.

            "Do you want to talk about it? I'm not as good at Rung with all the talking crap but I'm pretty damn good at listening." Reaching across the bar, Ratchet took Drifts hand away from his chest and squeezed it.

            Drifts spark sank, and his jaw started to throb. He didn't look at Ratchet right away, afraid if he did he might burst into tears and that's the last thing he wanted in a bar full of his friends who had already driven him to grind his teeth down.

            "Ratchet I-"

            "INCOMING!" A shrill cry from behind the sounded and as Drift and Ratchet both turned, Drift head flew back as a bright yellow object slammed into him.

            He was knocked back hard, half his frame falling over the bar top and his elbow hitting his drink, knocking it over and spilling it all over the place.

            Tailgate slid on the floor, watching as his hover board bounced off Drift's face and flew back across the room.

            Drift, seeing stars, jumped forward from his stool holding his face. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees, one hand flew from his face to try and catch himself but the world around him warped and threw him off. The ring in his audio turned into a high pitched scream and static popped all over his vision field.

            Hot energon erupted from his mouth and he slapped his hand over it, thrashing to his feet, he fell again.

            He felt Ratchet grab his shoulder, hauling him up and shouting something to him, but he couldn't hear him to well. He sounded muffled, far away, and Drift couldn't hear himself telling Ratchet he was okay and just needed to get back to his hab. He nearly had to fight Ratchet off as he ran from the bar, leaving Ratchet and all of the others just staring, then glaring at Tailgate.

 

* * *

 

 

            Bursting into his room, Drift toppled forwards, the corners of his vision rapidly growing dark as he had run down the hall. He feared he wouldn't have made it in time but he did. Fainting from the sheer amount of pain, he fell flat on his face, frame sliding a bit into his room and the door closing behind him.

            A small pool of energon collected by his mouth, and he wheezed. His optics optics didn't come back on for a while, though when they did they were spotty and glitching out.

            His audio still sounded foggy and clogged, and when he tried to get up his legs refused to support his weight. Instead he dragged himself into his washroom, hauling his frame up to his knees when he got to the counter and rested his chin on the cool porcelain.

            It took everything he had to get to his peds, only to purge his tank into the sink. Energon and cycled energon from his denta splattered along the inside of the sink and Drifts tank flip flopped at the sight.

            The corners of his vision started to eat away into black again, and he just accepted it, slipping back off the sink and falling half in the shower, he welcomed the darkness one more time.


	5. Plans

The weeks went by and Drift continued to ground down his fangs every chance they popped back up. It had become a little easier to get the job done, but at the expense of his jaws condition only getting progressively worse. Not to mention the fact he had managed to control himself enough not to return to Ratchet’s med-bay and steal anymore medical grade. Though it was out of the sheer hole of guilt in his tank that he couldn't go back and face Ratchet knowing what he had done.

            He had received several pings from Ratchet after the night he had been hit in the face, though Drift didn't respond to any accounting he had been passed out on the floor for most of the       night. When he managed to rouse himself, he sent Ratchet a ping back that he was okay and just needed some time alone, luckily for him Ratchet didn't come to his hab.

            In the recent weeks of grinding, eating anything even remotely hard caused him incalculable amounts of pain. Sweets were out, hard energon was out, even the liquid supplements started to cause him pain and he would go nearly all day without eating to avoid adding any more pain than he already felt.

            As a result his frame slowly started to become slim, and his optics looked sunken back into his head all the time. He was fatigued and nauseous, his tank always aching on top of his jaw, and eventually he had resort to pouring energon into his fuel cap on his arm to keep his levels high enough to stay online. He had made the mistake of pouring too much in and getting sick, as his tank had gone so long with nothing in it that it had a hard time processing the energon and he purged it out shortly after.

            Now he could only do a very small amount, though he was always left hungry and cranky. So much so that he stopped going to his training lessons with Rodimus and even stopped going to the bar all together. Completely blocking off communications with Perceptor and Ratchet, he spent a lot of his time in front of the wash room mirror, just looking at himself.

            To keep from getting specious with Magnus, he still did his reports and passed them in since they didn't require him to leave his hab and were easily messaged to Magnus. He figured that would be enough for bots to keep away from him, as long as he still worked everybody would think he was fine.

            Everyone except Perceptor who would come to his hab and knock on the door once in a while. He would stay there a while, knocking again and again an asking if he could come in even though Drift’s door lock blinked DO NOT DISTURB. He always had some energon in hand, saying he never saw Drift going out anymore and that he was worried and sometimes he would perk up when he heard Drift move around on the inside.

He could see Drift’s shadow from the crack below the door, though no unlock sound came, instead it was Drift’s voice, always sounding tired and slightly cotton mouthed.

            "Not today Percy." He would always say just barely loud enough for the scientist to hear, and Perceptor would press his forehead against the door and frown. "I'm sorry." He would then hear followed by Drift moving away from the door and silence following.

            Unable to do much more, Perceptor always left the energon by Drift’s door in for whenever he did come out he would have some. Drift was thankful for that since he didn't have to make runs from Swerve’s and back as often, which meant avoiding any unwanted conversations about his vanishing so suddenly. Though he did miss even the most simple of interactions, just saying good morning to everybody would lift his spirits and now that he didn't anymore he sank deeper into his black hole.

            When he finally noticed Perceptor’s shadow vanish from under the door, he looked down at his hands and sighed. The paint in his palm on his right hand was scratched and faded from the file. At times he even had cut it open filing so hard and had to bandage it. He often thought about going to get paint to repair it but all the detailing items were in the Med-bay, and in his current state, Ratchet would know right away something was very wrong. The last thing he wanted was for Ratchet to interrogate him, because he would fumble and all the walls he had built up would crumble and he wouldn't hold back. Everything that was bothering him would spill out and he wasn't sure at this point he would be able to stop himself or even hold back if Ratchet asked him if he was okay.

            It was all best to just avoid them as long as he could and hope his frame would eventually stop regenerating his fangs. By the end of each week they would be back at full length and he was be right back to sawing them down to size. Some nights he passed out right on the washroom floor, other nights he would put so much Enjex into his arm fuel cap that he would be too overcharged to feel anything. It was better to be overcharged, since he could sleep and not dream, his processor was too hazy to let Deadlock through to torment him, though some nights he was there, even sometimes behind him as he filed his fangs. He would just laugh, with his arms crossed, showing of his fangs to Drift who only worked harder and harder until he vanished.

            One night Drift’s energon levels dropped so low his frame could barely move and he found himself even struggling to keep his optics online. Having lost too much energon, he was on the brink of falling into an offline mode, though he had been lucky enough to get just enough energon in his system to sit up. It wasn't until after that night he had set up an emergency ping to head directly to Ratchet if his frame tried to go into offline mode again. Until that point, he would keep grinding and sawing, being extra careful now to keep his levels high enough to keep his secret a secret as long as possible.

 

* * *

 

 

There was a soft knock on the medical bay door, and Ratchet looked up from his desk as Perceptor walked in. There was no cheery greeting or a happy smile, only one of dread and worry. Perceptor walked all the way over to Ratchet’s desk and was quiet a moment before looking at him. They both had the same look of worry.

            "You called me here to talk about Drift right?" The late night ping that Perceptor had gotten while in the Lab saying they needed to talk about Drift was all it took for him to race to the med-bay. It had been after hours and Ratchet had sent First Aid off early so the two of them could talk in private.

            "Yes..." Ratchet set his papers down and stood up, heading around his desk so he could lean on the front and talk face to face with Perceptor. "I'm sure you have noticed he has been acting very strange lately. He hasn't been returning my calls or pings."

            "I have been trying to visit him but he won't open his door for me. He just always tells me another day or that the time just isn't good. I haven't seen him going to fuel either so I started bringing him some energon. I have been leaving it by his door and so far he takes it inside since when I walk by later it's not in the hall. I'm really worried about him Ratchet. What if something is really wrong with him and he's not telling us. I don't wish to over think anything or draw conclusions to fast but I am... scared."

            Ratchet crossed his arms and sighed. He watched Preceptor pull on his own servos nervously then take a deep breath to try and calm himself down.

            "I wish I could say it wasn't anything terrible but not that long ago Drift came here to get more medical grade cubes. I hadn't thought anything of it since he only left with a few and I thought he was just restocking. Turns out not to long after there was a break in and my supply closet was raided. Though nothing other than a few boxes of medical grade had been torn through. That and one box of gauze pads which I found littered on the floor covered in energon. I tested the energon myself and... it was Drift’s."

            Perceptor shifted uneasily, the thought of Drift breaking in and being hurt and alone bothering him. Why wouldn't he have asked for help? Why didn't he tell anybody?

            "It's not like Drift to be like this and leave a mess unless something was really wrong. I know the kid’s stubborn and sloppy sometimes but this... this is different. There was a _lot_ of energon Percy, and a lot of cubes missing. I wanted to confront him about it but he recently has been locking himself away, and when I go to visit him he's not in his hab. He knows my work schedule too well and I'm sure he's leaving and hiding someplace else just to avoid me considering I have the medical override to his door. What Drift doesn't know is tomorrow I have one of my long shifts but switched it out with First Aid so I can go and talk with him. I was hoping you would join me."

            "Yes of course! If it means figuring out what's wrong I'll do anything to help!" Perceptor stomped his ped and nodded. "Do you think Drift can hold out till tomorrow? What if he really is badly injured?" The thought of finding Drift face down in his hab had been haunting Perceptor for a few nights. He often found himself knocking on Drift’s door right before heading to his own hab just to press his head to the door and try to hear if Drift was moving around on the inside. Lucky for him he did hear a few footsteps, probably Drift considering to open the door then heading back over to his berth where he spent most of his days sitting.

            "I think Drift can hold out one more night. Besides if we corner Drift and something is wrong, something might happen and we need to be ready for it. If Drift is hurt and hiding away he will be defensive and maybe agitated. I'm personally hoping it's nothing serious." Though it was hard to believe at the amount of energon that had spackled the supply room floor.

            "Do you really believe Drift would attack us? Even if he was hurt or scared, for whatever reason, I can't see him doing something like that." He knew Drift had his fears and doubts, but for him to try and hurt them it seemed unlikely.

            "I can't say for sure. The way the boxes had been torn open and how many cubes he had gone through he seemed pretty desperate. This wouldn't be the first time Drift has done something desperate to survive. I had worried before when he seemed to be anxious around us, then I really started to worry when Drift the other night took off out of the bar. He was so pale and I could have sworn his frame looked a little thinner than usual. I thought maybe he is just getting sick, but the way he was staggering about... it has to be something else." Ratchet shook his head. "I don't think he would try to attack us, but we do have to be ready if he does. If Drift is isolating himself, he may become territorial and try to get us out. Which as you know we are not leaving until we know what's wrong so we need to be ready to take him down if we have to. As much as I would like to avoid that... it's better to consider all of our options so nobody gets hurt." Ratchet didn't mention he had several auto injectors he had gotten ready with a heavy sedative in case Drift became enraged. Ratchet left out the part were when he had first treated Drift in the Dead end he had a tendency to be less than compliant. Hopefully now after all this time that part of him had died off and all things would run smoothly.

            The knot that had formed in Perceptor’s tank turned and he nodded while looking down at his peds. He noticed Ratchet’s hands moving towards his own and taking them, squeezing a bit. Lacing their servos together, Ratchet pulled Perceptor into him and hugged him.

            "It's going to be alright Percy. We will figure it out. Tomorrow we will figure it all out."

            "I hope so... for Drift’s sake I hope so. I can't stand to think he's hurting and won't tell us way. Doesn't he trust us?" Shoulders slumping, Perceptor just shook his head. "I can't help but feel I let him down somehow. All this time... I could have been more persistent in asking what was bothering him but I just let him slip through my servos."

            "It's not your fault. I'm sure Drift had his reasons. Maybe he just cut himself on one of his swords and panicked." Though unlikely, Ratchet didn't want to upset Perceptor anymore than what he already was. No doubt Drift’s absence had work down on Percy the same way it had been wearing him out.

            Kissing the top of Perceptor’s head, Ratchet nuzzled and pressed his nose into the side of Perceptor’s cheek. He could see a bit of coolant gathering in the corners of Percptor’s optics but knew he was trying all he could to keep them down. He rapidly blinked them away and tried to regain his composure by clearing his intake.

            "Tomorrow, we will go together and talk to Drift, and then we will take it from there. Baby steps, okay?" A small smile and Ratchet ran his thumb across Perceptor’s face as he nodded again.

            "Yes… right of course." Resting his head on Ratchet’s shoulder, he dimmed his optics and calmed down. Drift was strong and could take care of himself. He shouldn't have been worrying as much as he had but he couldn't help it. He knew he had told Drift on countless occasions he could tell him anything, he would always be there to listen but for some reason he never did. He knew Drift probably didn't want to burden him with his problems but he had to know he wasn't doing anything in the slightest to burden Perceptor. He wanted to help no matter what, and he wanted to make sure Drift knew he was always there for him no matter what.

 

* * *

 

 

Drift stick his servos in his mouth and pulled his cheeks apart to try and get a better look at his denta. Already they were half way grown back in and he felt a rage boiling inside of him. Why couldn't they just stay down? Why did they have to keep coming back and haunting him? Why every time when he shaved them down deadlock showed up to watch and taunt him? Why?!

            Breathing starting to increase, Drift took a hold of the nub fang and pulled on it, though his grip slipped on it and he only became more enraged. Again he tried to pull on it, wanting it to just come out completely and again losing his grip on it.

            He looked down at the file on the sink, his servos becoming itchy as all he wanted to do now was file them right down to the gum and leave nothing at all in its place. Though he only had two cubes of medical grade left and already his jaw was throbbing from the idea.

            Though what if shaving them all the way down was the answer for keeping them gone for good. It was easy enough to find replacement denta, so why hadn't he tried? Maybe because if he did saw them down, they might grow back like they had been for the entire month’s time and there would be no way at all for him to hide the two large gaps in his mouth from anybody if he was stopped in the hall or had to go to a meeting with Rodimus and Magnus.

            Storming out of the washroom to his main hab room, he sat down on his berth and just shook his head. Just from thinking about filing his denta down he could already taste his own energon in his mouth. His spark rate had increased as well, and he felt his finials tingling. His nerves were through the roof and no matter how much he tried to focus and came down he couldn't. Feeling cornered and hopeless, there seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel for him.

            It took a while for Drift’s systems to settle and the festering anger in his tank to fade. He laid down and closed his optics for a while, just thinking about better times. Time when he had Ratchet sitting on one side of him and Percy on the other and they laughed together.

            Sniffling, Drift’s hand wanders over his berth top for a while before he gets his data pad and pulls it up to his face.

            Flicking it on, he scrolls through a few photos he has saves him the three of them together. Some of him and just Ratchet, others of him and just Perceptor. In them he is all smiling, and his fangs are present in all. The last picture was of all three of them sitting at the bar holding up their drinks, and Drift set the data pad down and rubbed his tearing up optics.

            Taking in a shaky breath, Drift closed his optics again and wished he was back at the bar, raising his glasses with them and clinking them together. What he would give to have that moment again.


	6. Caught

Perceptor paced back and forth quickly, his face twisted with worry as he waited for Ratchet. First Aid had tried to calm him down but Perceptor only shrugged him off and continued to walk back and forth. He hadn't slept, far too worried now to get any kind of quiet in his mind.

            He turned fast when Ratchet came out of his back room and walked up to him with a nod. His hands were empty, no doubt hiding what he had mentioned the previous night in his subspace. The last thing they wanted was for Drift to see what he had and freak out.

            "Ready?" He watched Perceptor nod quickly. "Good, we are going to have to be quick just in case Drift can hear me putting in the override to his door. There is no other way out of the hab so we should be able to confront him easily. If all goes well that is." Putting a hand on Perceptor’s free shoulder, Ratchet gave a hopeful squeeze then walked with him in the direction of Drift’s hab. It wasn't that far, in fact a very short walk through a few halls and they would be there in only a few minutes, though it seemed like a century for Perceptor.

            "I really hope this is just one big misunderstanding. I really do." Perceptor walked a little bit faster than Ratchet, antsy and just wanting to get to Drift’s hab as soon as he could. All night Drift had been running across his mind and how he should have gone to him last night just one more time and knocked to hear if he was okay. Instead he did what Ratchet asked and went back to work, keeping as much attention off Drift as possible so he wouldn't catch onto them before they could get to him first.

            "I would like to think of the same thing but there was a lot of energon Percy. Enough to raise eyebrows and make me really wonder what Drift has been up too. I gave him the codes to the med-bay in case he ever needed it but I never thought he would do something like this. Alone... without at least telling one of us what he was doing."

            "Unless he never wanted us to know in the first place." Perceptor swallowed hard and stopped with Ratchet in front of Drift’s hab door. A bit of relief passed over Perceptor as he noticed his energon basket was gone, which meant Drift had indeed opened his door last night to retrieve the goods. Though as much as it relieved him, he still felt his scope tingle in anticipation to get inside. His peds felt heavy, and his spark fluttered as waves of anxiety crashed over him and all he wanted to do was push Ratchet aside and hurry the process up. Though that would be counterproductive considering Drift might hear them outside and try to hide.

            "Stand back, I have to get to the lock." Ratchet said as he lightly pushed Perceptor to his side and slid his key card through the doors lock mechanism. The little screen blinked for a code and Ratchet started to punch the keys in.

 

* * *

 

 

Drift, standing in his washroom ground the file back and forth against his fangs. He retched, leaning over the sink for energon to spurt from his mouth and vanish down the drain. He had accidently chipped one of the fangs, making for a jagged denta fragment with exposed nerves to now be a problem for him to grind back down.

            It hurt, terribly, but his hand moved on its down now, and the noise from the file filled his audio enough that he didn't hear his hab door pinging with each key Ratchet pressed into the lock pad. Instead he just kept filing away, his free hand griping the edge of the sink so hard he had cracked it at one point.

            Pulling the file from his mouth with a shaky hand, he smiled into his cracked mirror to see mostly a bloody smile and only one fang left to work down. He closed his mouth as the air touched the sensitive cluster of nerves on the freshly sheered fang and sent a sharp zing of pain right up his nose and into the middle of his forehead.

            "Mnh!" Squeezing his optics shut, he leaned forwards and trembled, doing his best to spit out the rapidly flowing energon to minimize how much he had to swallow.

            Opening his optics, he looked down at his stained hand, having trouble focusing on it as he saw three other transparent hands moving around their own. No matter how many times he shook his head to try and clear his vision field it remained and he just had to accept it.

            One more fang to go and then he could lay back down, just one more to go. Parting his sticky lips, Drift wheezed. His arms and hands were weak and he wondered how he was even still standing considering all his legs wanted to do was buckle right there on the spot.

            Biting down on the file, he started to saw away, gagging from time to time and not hearing the subtle footsteps that were already moving through his hab. He heard nothing but the loud ring and grotesque chipping of his denta.

            He glanced at himself in the mirror a moment, regretting it as deadlock was already behind him laughing and he squeezed his eyes shut. Working his hand faster and faster, he growled. Energon spackled the mirror as he started to pant harder and harder, the rage in his chest swirling and only building until finally noise other than his suffering broke through.

            "Drift!"

Optics flickering open, Drift’s hand stopped for a moment and he remained hunched over the sink. Spark pounding, he slowly pulled the file from his mouth which was followed by several long strands of energon. Very slowly he stood up, looking to the washroom door to Ratchet and Perceptor behind him covering his own mouth.

            The file clattered to the floor as Drift stumbled back in surprise, his optics wide and already spilling over with coolant as he took in their faces. Their shocked expressions only seemed to get worse as they noticed all the energon staining Drift’s chest plate and all of it leaking down the front of the sink onto the floor.

            "They wouldn't stay down..." Drift choked out, stepping back again when Ratchet moved in. "They won't stay down." Energon spurt from the corners of his mouth and he couldn't react fast enough as Ratchet darted up to him and grabbed his cheeks.

            "What have you done?! Drift what have you _done_!" Ratchet shouted at him, pulling him down to try and look over his mouth but Drift kept is closed tight. " _Drift_!" Ratchet roared, and Drift started to cower. He whimpered, slowly opening his mouth to Ratchet and letting out all the energon that had been built up inside.

            He couldn't get it very wide on account it was already beyond his pain threshold, and coolant was flowing in thick globs down his red cheeks.

            His fangs had been filed down, though they were jagged and Ratchet could already tell he had been doing it for a while on account his gums were inflamed and the sores on his denta were looking infected.

            "Why would you do this, Drift?! Are you trying to get yourself _killed_?!"

            "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, _I'm sorry_! I just wanted to be like everybody else... I just wanted to be normal." Peeking his optics open, he couldn't make Ratchet out well considering his optics were flooding over. "I just want to be like everybody else."

            As Ratchet was about to say something else, he felt Perceptor’s hand on his arm that was holding Drift’s face. He squeezed, and Ratchet let Drift go slowly, stepping back for Perceptor to move in and pulled Drift right into his chest. Wrapping his arms around Drift, he hugged him tight, feeling Drift trembling against him. He could feel Drift put his head on his shoulder and hide his face into his neck. Perceptor could feel warm droplets of energon spilling from Drift’s mouth and leaking all down the front of his own frame, but he didn't care.

            "It's alright Drift, we’re here now. It's over... we’re here." Perceptor whispered as Ratchet looked around the washroom. All the while Drift just sobbed into Perceptor’s neck, though he was trying very hard not to and only made himself hiccup harder. His hands were clenched into tight fists by his sides, shaking along with the rest of his ridged frame as guilt washed over him.

            He tried to focus, listening to Perceptor whisper sweet calming things into his audio but he could barely hear it over the ringing. He clenched his denta, drawing out more energon and just swallowing the pain as he cursed himself for this.

            "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...  _Percy_." Knees finally having enough, Drift went down and nearly took Perceptor with him but was lucky enough to have caught himself and slowly guided Drift to the floor.

Pulling Drift’s front into his lap, Perceptor very gently stroked one of Drift’s finials and waited for Ratchet to kneel down beside them.

            Spark nearly stopping as Ratchet showed Perceptor the file, he couldn't help covering his own mouth. The air was sucked right out of his vents when he realized the file Drift had been using was one of his.

            "This is mine." Struggling to swallow the knot in his intake, Perceptor looked down at Drift who was making a great effort to not look at him. "From the lab..."

            "Must have gotten it at some point." Putting the file into his own subspace, Ratchet set the back of his hand on Drift’s forehead and sighed. "He has a fever, and judging by the amount of medical grade cubes he downed in the med-bay and all the ones we just found in his hab, he has built up a tolerance to it." Brushing some energon from Drift’s mouth, Ratchet just shook his head. "They're not meant for mass consumption, only first aid."

            "It hurts." Drift tried to sit up, but Percy and Ratchet both pushed him back down into his lap and he started to fuss. "I have to do it. I have too. I want to be like the rest of them. I have to." Too weak to really put up a fight, he laid back against Perceptor and allowed him to continue petting his finial.

            "We have to get him to the med-bay so I can repair what he's done and whatever else he might have done." Looking over the rest of Drift’s frame, Ratchet just shook his head, a part of him terribly hurt that Drift hadn't come to him for help. "I can carry him, I don't think he's in fit condition to walk. In the meantime while I pick him up, I need you to go through the hall and clear anybody else who might be out there. I don't want to start a panic if someone see's Drift like this. Mostly Rodimus. Tell First Aid I'm on my way back and to get my denta-kit ready."

            Reaching over, Ratchet stroked Perceptor’s face, seeing he was distressed but holding it together just for Drift’s sake.

            "R-Right. Of course." Carefully pushing Drift over into Ratchet’s lap, he was off and running through the halls.

            "Alright, come on kid, let's get you back together." Hauling Drift up bridal style, Ratchet adjusted him so Drift’s head was resting on his shoulder then slowly started to make his way out.

            He moved slow, knowing any bit of jostling would hurt Drift, and he knew when he did when Drift’s frame would suddenly go ridged and a new flow of energon would seep from his mouth.

            When he reached the med-bay, both Perceptor and First Aid were waiting for them by a clean berth which Ratchet was quick to lay Drift down on.

            "Primus..." First Aid stepped closer, just looking at all the energon staining Drift’s front. "I'll get some medical grade."

            "Don't bother. Drift’s been guzzling it down so fast his system has no doubt built a tolerance to it. The only thing its good for now is keeping his energy levels stable." Pulling over a chair, Ratchet sat down and very lightly started to feel around Drift’s swollen face until he whined and jerked his head away.

            He waited for Drift to bring his head back over and then carefully opened his mouth and got a better look inside now that he had a light over him. The denta fragments lay aligned with his other denta to give it the appearance of being flat like the rest but the nerves were exposed.

            "What are you going to do?" Perceptor asked, looking between Ratchet and Drift.

            "Well, for starters, some of the denta bits are infected, I need to drill them out and then put a sealing foam in them. Should stop the pain from the nerves. Some antibiotics should stop the swelling in his gums. I don't see any signs of a rust infection and frankly I'm surprised he didn't get one." Shuffling through his sub space, Ratchet pulled out one of the auto injectors and pressed it against Drift’s main energon line. Pressing the top button, the needle jerked out and jabbed Drift and quickly deposited the sedative.

            Drift, not liking that at all, jerked back and into Perceptor who held him close and cooed to him.

            "Sorry Drift, but it's either that or we drill while you're awake and I think you've suffered enough. Plus I would have just used medical grade but again, you would just burn through it." Pulling Drift back onto his back, Ratchet tenderly stroked his finial and waited.

            Slowly, Drift’s optics dimmed and his vision wobbled. Frame feeling extremely heavy, he had trouble moving his hand over to Perceptor’s which were sitting on the edge of the berth.

             "I'm... really tired..."

            "I know Drift, but when you wake up everything will be much better." Taking Drift’s hand, Perceptor squeezed it and gave him a small smile. "I'll be right here waiting for you, I won't leave you alone, okay? I'll be right here." Leaning over, he placed a kiss on Drift’s cheek.

            Ratchet watched on, holding Drift’s other hand and running his thumb over the top of his hand. Eventually, he picked it up and kissed Drift’s knuckled, smiling at him when he looked over to him with groggy optics.

            "I just wanted to fit in..."

            "I know you did, Drift. I know." It only took a few minutes for Drift to finally slip off to sleep, and Ratchet immediately got to work." I have to hurry, he might burn through the sedative as well because of the high grade." Pulling his tools over, he had First Aid help him keep Drift’s mouth open and dove right in.

            Meanwhile, Perceptor got up and retrieved some clean towels. Soaking them in warm water, he walked back over to Drift and started to dab energon off of his frame. The least he could do now was make sure Drift woke up clean.

            He managed to get his chest plate shimmering and cleaned off his arms and whatever little bits of energon had managed to splatter into his legs. Perceptor only paused a moment when he went to clean Drift’s hand and turned his hand over to look at his palm.

            Several gouge marks caught his attention, and he already knew they were from holding the file so tightly. His spark sank, it was his fault Drift had been able to get a file in the first place, maybe if he had been more careful this wouldn't have happened.

            "It wasn't your fault Percy." Ratchet didn't look up from his work, drilling into a denta and having First Aid fill it instantly with the foam. "If he couldn't get a file from you I'm sure he would have found another way. Something more dangerous. Drift is persistent and stubborn, none of this is on you."

Nodding slowly, Perceptor got up one more time to get some bandages for Drift’s hand. Kissing his palm, he started to wrap the bandages around and tied them a bit loose as to not irritate the wound. Once he finished, he sat back and waited, watching Ratchet and First Aid work quickly and exchange tools one by one.

            When Ratchet was done, he rinsed Drift’s mouth out and gave a quick scan of the fangs which he had filled and rounded out. Once satisfied he helped Perceptor clean off Drift’s face and then laid him back.

            "So it's over right?" Perceptor asked as he ran his hand over Drift’s cheek.

            "Not quite. Drift’s fangs will still grow back, I just capped them off so they wouldn't hurt or be prone to infection anymore. The main problem is still there and I don't want to tell Drift there is no way of solving it. Even if I were to remove them completely, they could keep coming back. Not to mention the emotional trauma Drift is going through right now."

            "What could have started this?" Perceptor watched Ratchet shrug and cross his arms. "Drift never mentioned anything but I did notice he stopped smiling all together. I have a feeling this is something that had been bothering Drift for a very long time and there just happened to be something recently that caused him to snap. Made him desperate. Drift talked about filing his fangs down a while ago, I thought it was a joke. Drift's always struggled with feeling like he fit in, I just didn't expect him to go to these lengths to do it.”

            "What happens after he wakes up?” Perceptor continued. “Should I maybe get Rung? This can't go unnoticed. I refuse to let Drift just say he's fine when he wakes up and goes back to pretending to be merry when I know he isn't."

            "Small steps first. Drift needs rest and time to recover. We can call Rung in the morning and talk with him about what happened and see what he suggests. As soon as we tell Drift to see Rung for an appointment he is going to back pedal and not want to be part of it. No point in cornering him again after something like this, we’re lucky we caught him when we did. If he had continued to do this he could have offlined himself from energon loss."

            Drift’s optics peeked open and he groaned, shifting on the berth. The ringing in his audio had stopped and he could hear the muffled voices of bots around him.

            Then came a large red and white blob followed by a nearly all red blob that hovered over him for a while before vanishing leaving him staring at the ceiling a while. As time ticked on the voice became a little clearer and he could hear Ratchet talking to First Aid about a Rust vaccine which was followed shortly by a sharp sting in his thigh which he was too tired to make much fuss about other than a wrinkled nose.

            "Drift? Drift can you hear me?" Perceptor squeezed his hand, smiling when he looked to the side at him.

            "Percy?" He wasn't even sure if he had said anything or just thought it, but the bigger smile on Perceptor’s face confirmed he had managed to vocalize. "I'm really tired..."

            "I know Drift, you can sleep if you want too." Kissing his finial, Perceptor looked up at Ratchet who was also smiling.

            "Not here... please not here..." Struggling to sit up, Ratchet and Perceptor put their hands on Drift’s chest to keep him in place. "Please... not here."

            Ratchet sighed and looked at First Aid who nodded to them.

            "Alright, we can head to my hab for the night. My berth is large enough plus I have some supplies in there if anything comes up." Sliding his arms under Drift, Ratchet picked him up and held him close, making sure to rest his head on his shoulder now because Drift was too weak to support it on his own.

            All three of them moved through the halls slowly, taking their time as to not disturb Drift too much. Already Drift was being lulled back to sleep, his optic lids growing heavier by the second. He groaned, a part of him more than thrilled the pain in his jaw was gone for the most part aside for a bit of throbbing, but that was nothing compared to what he had felt before.

            "Here we are." Ratchet said stepping into his hab and laid Drift down on the middle of the berth. Carefully arranging his limbs comfortably, Ratchet set Drift’s hands on his stomach. Next he laid down on one side of him while Perceptor laid on the opposite and together they sandwiched Drift between them.

            Both Ratchet and Perceptor set their hands on top of Drift’s and laced all three of their hands together. Squeezing one another, they each took turns cuddling Drift as he slept, placing loving kisses on his cheeks and finials, they each talked quietly before finally all three of them were fast asleep.


	7. Hope

Drift shifted, finding it a bit difficult when two warm masses were at either side of him. At first he wasn’t sure where he was until he had forced his optics online and looked right up at the ceiling. Right away he knew it wasn’t his own, and the berth he had been on wasn’t his own considering it was much more comfortable than his own.

            He tried to move his hands, feeling a weight on them and then someone’s servos grip his hand tightly. It relaxed after a moment and he looked down, seeing two more sets of hands that didn’t belong to them. Looking side to side, he saw Ratchet and Perceptor both cuddled close to him, their faces buried into their pillows.

            Perceptor was a quiet sleeper, laying still and calm, while Ratchet’s harsh breathing could be heard a mile away. He was still as well, but his hands from time to time would twitch in his sleep.

            Swallowing hard, Drift just laid there a while. His jaw felt a lot better than it had in the last month, in fact the pain was nearly completely gone despite a bit of soreness he felt. His systems still seemed to drag, still tired and achy.

            Sitting up slowly, Drift looked from side to side again to make sure he didn’t wake either of his partners before unknotting all of their servos from his own hands.

            It had taken a lot of effort to get off of the berth without moving them too much, but Drift decided climbing over Perceptor was the best since Ratchet did wake easy some nights.

            He was a bit wobbly on his legs, feeling the room tilt a bit but he braced himself a moment until things settled before tucking Perceptor back in. He paused to watch them for a moment, taking in how peaceful it was considering the night before had been full of chaos and regret. Though the regret had followed over to the morning as the pit in Drift’s stomach throbbed.

            Shaking it off, Drift headed into Ratchet’s personal washroom and stood in front of the sink. He glanced at himself in the mirror, his face still pale and a bit of the swelling still present despite Ratchet taking care to bring it down.

            Filling the sink with water, Drift waited and watched until it was full and then dipped his hands in. Splashing upwards onto his face, he repeated the action a few more times until finally standing back up and looking at himself again. Relieved that Deadlock wasn’t waiting for him in the mirror’s reflection, he leaned in a bit closer.

            Opening his mouth and spreading his cheeks apart with his servos, he looked at his freshly shaved down denta. Ratchet had done great work, leveling them out to perfectly match the denta on each side. He had rounded them off and capped them so their color even matched. No more jagged edges or searing pain as the air touched at them, just the dull ache from his sore gums.

            “They’re going to go back…” A voice from the door way said, and Drift removed his hands from his mouth. He didn’t look at Ratchet, not right away at least. “They’re going to go back in about a week, I’m sure you knew that.” He was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, though his face soft. He was speaking quietly, no doubt to keep from waking Perceptor up.

            “Leave me alone.” Drift almost snarled, his finials tilting back in an angry manner.

            “I won’t.” Stepping in, Ratchet took Drift by the arm and turned him to face him. “I won’t and neither will Perceptor. Do you have any idea how worried you made the two of us? Do you have any idea how badly you scared us when we found you last night? If you think we are going to _leave you alone_ after that you have another thing coming.” He let Drift’s arm go, seeing Drift retreat back a bit in submission. “We want to help you Drift. Always have, and then you go and do something like this behind our back.”

            “I had no choice; if I asked you to do this for me you would have turned me away.”

            “And for good reason! Drift, you don’t need to mutilate yourself for others to fit in! You’re fine the way you are! Always have been and always will be. Frag the fools who think otherwise! You’re stronger and much wiser because of what you have been through, you should have known better than to do something like this.” Having to take a deep breath to calm down, Ratchet just sighed. “As much as you think you don’t fit in here, you do.”

            Drift clenched his hands into fists and pushed past Ratchet. He only made it out into the main Room before Ratchet snagged his arm again and yanked him around.

            “You can’t keep running away from this Drift.”

            “You don’t understand! You don’t know what it's like!” He was shouting now, making Perceptor jump up from the berth. “Everyone likes you! Everyone looks up to you! They count on you! Nobody does that for me! I’m just… the ex con! With the fangs! I’m just a reminder to everybody that I probably slaughtered their friends at some point! How many bots have I taken down that you couldn’t save?! Hmm?! _How many_?!” Wrenching his arm from Ratchet, he rushed from the hab, the door slamming down behind him.

            “Drift wait!” Perceptor tried to trail him but Ratchet held up his arm and blocked him.

            “Let him go, he’s lashing out because he knows even after I capped them they are still going to come back. Let him blow off some steam and then talk to him. Will lessen the likely hood he says something to you he will later regret. Just give him some time.” Ratchet lowered his arm and watched Perceptor nod sadly.

            “There has to be something we can do. Anything to lessen the weight he is holding.” Watching Ratchet shrug, he thought a moment.

            “I’m going to talk to Rung about seeing Drift. If anybody can at least offer a good suggestion it would be Rung.” Giving Perceptor’s hand a soft squeeze, Ratchet left the room and left Perceptor alone.

 

* * *

 

 

Looking through the observation window, Perceptor watched Drift slice at a training dummy with a wooden sword.

            The hard _notch_ noise it made each time it made contact echoed in the room. Drift’s hard panting could be heard along with sharp yells he would make from time to time. Each blow to the dummy became more and more violent until the training sword splintered. Half of the false blade flew across the room and skid across the floor while the hilt remained in Drift’s hand.

            Throwing it down, Drift trudged across the room and sat down rather roughly on a bench. Leaning forward he put his face in his hands and sighed. He hadn’t been able to train in the last month, finding it difficult since his jaw restricted a lot of his movement. Now he had too much pent up anger and energy he didn’t know what to do with it. That had been the fourth training sword he had broken in the last hour, and he already knew Magnus was going to be on his case about it. Though that seemed like such a small nuisance compared to what he was dealing with now.

            Perceptor had walked in now, standing before Drift and just looking down at him. He watched Drift shake his head and dig his servos into his finials.

            “Drift.” He said in a small voice, not wanting to startle him. “May I sit with you?” Ratchet had warned him Drift might still be hostile but Perceptor had wanted to see Drift anyway. He figured Drift would let him sit or he would get up and leave but he was happy when Drift scooted over. At least Ratchet had been right by letting Drift blow off some steam.

            “I brought you something. Figured you must be hungry. It’s nearly midday.” Digging around in his subspace, Perceptor pulled out a big candy. He snapped it in half and handed Drift a piece. At first when Drift didn’t take it, Perceptor worried, but it was just thinking if it would hurt his denta or not.

            Deciding to take it anyway, Drift took a bite, happy there was no pain and he could finally enjoy the treats Perceptor made. It tasted like heaven, if there ever was a thing. It melted in his mouth and his finials perked up a bit as he chewed. Glancing at Perceptor, a flash of memory invaded his mind of the look on his face when he had noticed Drift had taken a file from him.

            “I’m sorry.” Drift said lowly, taking another bite of the candy. “I thought it was the only way. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me.” He moved to the side a bit as Perceptor bumped him with his shoulder.

            “No need to apologize Drift. I do understand what it’s like to not quite fit in. I will never know what it was like to be a con but I do know what it was like to be looked at different by your comrades.  When you have an alt-mode like mine and you choose to fight on the field you are at a disadvantage. It becomes impossible to keep up with any of the others while they drive and it becomes impossible to carry wounded. I felt useless, on the field as much as I did in the lab when the war was at its peeking point.” He shrugged. “Thought about taking my scope off and altering myself into a better mode, but I didn’t. I did change a lot about myself after you and I first met but I stayed the same old me. I still create and do work with Brainstorm, and I enjoy it. Because that is who I am.” Taking Drift’s hand, he laced their servos together and squeezed. “Drift you may feel unloved here, unappreciated because of what others have said or done but you are loved. Ratchet and I love you very deeply. Rodimus, Magnus, the whole crew loves you. Kup saw something in you that day you showed up, and you proved to all of us just how wonderful you are.”

            Drift was quiet, just listening to Perceptor go on and on. The little scientist had a point; many on the ship had welcomed him with open arms. It had just been the select few who singled out things he had been externally open wounded about. Though it didn’t make it hurt any less.

            “I know Percy… but I just… don’t feel like I will ever truly be happy. I mean I am happy, with you and Ratchet I am happy but…” He trailed off and shook his head. “There are some things I just want to change, but I know I can’t. All that work I did and it was for nothing. I scared you and Ratchet and Ratchet is mad at me for doing it.”

            “Ratchet isn’t angry at you Drift, he’s relived you are okay. You know it’s difficult for him to show deep emotion. He’s worked so hard under pressure all his life he’s just good at keeping himself collected. It was a good thing too because I was… rather frozen last night. He’s just disappointed.” And that made Drift’s tank flop, the one thing he wanted to avoid and he had done it anyway.

            “I’m never going to get anything right Percy. The longer I live is just the longer the memories can eat away at me.” He sighed, feeling Perceptor pull him into his chest for a hug. “I just wanted to be like everybody else. Sit at the bar; get a little drunk, laugh, makes jokes.” Dimming his optics, his listened to Perceptor’s inner workings.

            “Well, I may have something for you by the end of the week. If you can hold out that long and not get yourself into any more trouble, then you may be in for a pleasant surprise.” He smiled down at Drift, who also smiled, though his lips tightly sealed.

            Slowly, Drift leaned up, pressing his lips to Percptor’s for a kiss. It lasted a few moments, and Drift broke away first, smiling wide enough now that his denta were slightly visible.

            “There’s the Drift I know.” Playfully, Perceptor kissed him all over his cheeks and laughed with him.

 

* * *

 

 

Later, Rung had visited with Drift, asking Perceptor to politely give them some time alone together. It had been strange for Drift to have a therapy session, and as much as Rung tried to convince him that it didn’t mean he was crazy, he was silent for the most part while Rung spoke to him. He listened for the most part, the other part of his mind wondering off until finally he broke the silence.

            “I see Deadlock all the time.” And out came everything he had ever felt. Anger, sorrow, and the unending amount of guilt that had followed him all flowed out. It was like a pipe had burst and all Drift’s secrets were the flowing water that was spilling out. It came and came and he wasn’t sure Rung could get it all down but he was. Once in a while the little doctor would chine in and question, and Drift would answer him until finally he was quiet again.

            “The path to healing the mind is a long one Drift, but the best part about it for you is that we are all here to help you now. You don’t have to suffer alone anymore.” Rung set his hand on Drift’s shoulder smiling at him. “The war, it’s been hard on us all. We have all done things we have come to regret at some point. It’s how things are, it’s how we evolve and let them shape us that matters. Drift, you have grown so much, made a place for yourself here and you are lucky enough to have Ratchet and Perceptor both fight for you each day. Don’t let that go. Hold tight to them because they are to you.” Jotting down a few last notes, Rung told Drift that he should see him again sometime in the next few days for another session considering he had already done so well in the first one.

            Ratchet had earlier told Rung that Drift might not even talk at all. The only reason he had shown up was because Ratchet had threatened to drag him there himself if he didn’t.  Not that he was afraid of Rung or anything just the fact he was sensitive to bring up past events. So much so thatop he sometimes flinched when he recalled things or felt his frame getting hot with panic. He knew Rung wouldn’t judge him and was there to help but he did still keep some things buried.

            All he wanted now was to rewind back to the morning were he lay squished between Ratchet and Perceptor. All he wanted to do was cuddle the two and apologize for his outburst. It was terrible cruel to make Ratchet recall the patients he couldn’t save, knowing that was something he knew weighed the CMO down. Rung had suggested to him that he apologize to Ratchet and that Ratchet would understand and forgive him since he wasn't the kind to hold grudges. Especially towards Drift of all mechs.

            Taking the advice, Drift decided to head down to the med bay where he knew Ratchet was on call. Wasting no time after the door was open and rushing Ratchet with open arms.

            Ratchet, who had a data pad in hand had no time to put it down and instead it was squished between his and Drift’s chestplate as the samurai embraced him. He pushed his head into Ratchet’s neck, offlining his optics and just squeezing him tightly.

            Ratchet, a bit shocked looked at First Aid across the room who shrugged and just watched.

            "You're not stealing medical grade are you?" Ratchet was half joking but was actually worried. He didn't think Drift had actually snuck by him this time but he never know, Drift was skilled.

            "No." Drift sighed, resting his head on Ratchet’s shoulder and relaxing when Ratchet finally draped his arms around him. "Just wanted to say... sorry... and thank you for yesterday. You and Percy coming to find me. I'm sorry for this morning..." A knot was working in his intake but he kept it at bay, feeling Ratchet’s servos gliding up and down his spinal strut soothingly. "I had no right to say what I did."

            "Don't apologize Drift. You have a lot weighing your mind down and it can cloud judgment. You're scared and you thought you were alone."  
            "I didn't want to disappoint you Ratch. I didn't want to upset Percy either and I ended up doing it all anyway... all for nothing."

            "Drift, I know it's difficult for you to accept your denta as they are and they are a constant reminder to you of what you used to be but all I see in front of me is Drift. And I am proud of Drift and all he has done. I'm proud of this little gutter mech that came into my clinic. I'm proud of the effort he has put in to change himself for the better, even with the battles he has to fight." Drift pulled back and looked up at Ratchet, his optics getting watery as he listened. "I'm upset you thought hurting yourself was the only way out. But I'm happy you are on the road to recovery. It will be long, like always, but you have me and Percy at your side to help you. Alright?" Brushing tears away with his thumbs, Ratchet gave him a soft smile then kisses between his optics. "Drift, we love you just the way you are."

            Putting his face back into Ratchet’s neck, they hugged tightly, and First Aid came over and set his hand on Drift’s shoulder, giving a soft squeeze of support.

 

* * *

 

 

The following weeks consisted of Drift visiting Rung when he could, and sometimes Rung simply visiting him in the training room when he was busy. Drift would talk, sometimes pausing on stories and wishing to move onto something else. Rung always agreed, wanting Drift to vent on his own time. He did talk, sometimes Rung did have to pull it out of him but when he did it just flowed, he had learned that Drift talked better when he was focused on the training dummy, getting his anger out on it.

            When their sessions were up Rung would leave as either Ratchet or Perceptor would come in to have lunch with Drift, always sitting with him in the middle of the room and small talking. Both of them had ignored Drift’s fang which had grown back in rather quickly due to Drift being in much better health. Though Drift at night, despite always having either ratchet or Percy to cuddle with, showed signs of sinking right back into depression. He constantly ran his glossa over the new fangs, his servos itchy to cut them back down but Ratchet and Perceptor both grabbed his hands at night to try and sooth him. Sometimes Perceptor would stay up all night with Drift and just talk with him to keep his mind occupied.

            By the time a new week was about to start, Perceptor had called for Drift to head to the med bay for the surprise he had promised him. Not really wanting to go, Drift dragged himself from his berth and headed down.

            He was surprised to see Brainstorm in the room alongside both Perceptor and Ratchet. He wanted to make a joke about them designing a faceplate for him but he bit his glossa just in case that was exactly what they had.

            "Percy and I have been working on this little baby all week. Tested it out this morning, should work like a charm." Holding out a small chip in his hand, Brainstorm showed Drift. "Mirage helped."

            "Mirage?" Drift tilted his head and looked between Ratchet and Perceptor who were smiling. "I don't understand, what does it do?"

            "Well, we know that your denta will just constantly grow back no matter how often we grind them down. So what we really had to start thinking was how do we make them vanish to others but let them remain? The chip emits a special signal to other mech’s optics, which shields your denta and replaces your fangs with what will look like two flat denta. A mouth like anybody else and nobody will know its smoke and mirrors." Brainstorm was almost giddy. "The best part is your own optics will be prone to it as well, which means when you look into a mirror you will not see them either. Though you will still be able to feel them in your mouth. There is no getting around that, I am sorry."

            Drift was quiet, but smiled, his fangs sticking out a bit as he moved forwards.

            "Install it, please. If it means everybody will stop staring at me please. Put it in. Please." He was almost weak in the knees, but everyone was around him patting him on the back.

            The installation only took a few minutes, and when Drift opened his eyes to a mirror in front of him, he opened his mouth wide. His spark fluttered when he saw perfectly aligned denta, and all the others around him clapping and cheering as they too saw the same thing.

            Drift shot up, wrapping one arm around Perceptor and Ratchet each before pulling them into a tight hug.

            "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Each statement of gratitude wobbled until Drift was sobbing "thank yous" between them. Both Perceptor and Ratchet rubbed Drift’s back, kissing him and cuddling him until he calmed down.

            "We have a long way to go Drift..." Ratchet said as Drift took his hand and Perceptor’s.

            "But I have you two with me this time." Smiling wide, Drift walked out of the medical bay with them, vanishing down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever find yourself wanting to self-harm please call **919-231-4525** or the toll free number, **877-235-4525**. Your life is important, people do care about you. Teen TalkLine is non-judgmental and available to anyone. Whatever it is that you are struggling with, remember that you are not alone in your situation.


End file.
